Kansas, A-H, 1867-1989

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On November 19th, four days after the murders, an
agent found several expended shotgun shells near the Clut-
ter house, but not actually on the Clutter property. Since
this was the hunting season, the find wasn’t particularly
promising. Nevertheless, they were sent to the KBI lab-
oratory in Topeka for examination.

On that same day Agent Nye discovered what appeared
to be bloodstains on the railing of a bridge across the

Arkansas River. Tested, they proved to have come from
the entrails of a slaughtered pig which a_ neighboring
farmer had tossed into the river

Reports trickled in to Dewey that his men had been
inable to track down the missing radio and that no local
merchant handled such cord as had been used to secure
the murder victims. By December Ist, the investigation
seemed at a dead end.

Alfred Stoecklein, Clutter’s employe, was questioned
again. He was the only full-time employe on the farm.
At harvest time itinerant workers were hired to bring in

= EE Te

“You don’t want to believe everything Hickock told you,”
Smith told Agts. Duntz (l.) and Dewey en route to Kansas

the crop. Stoecklein said he had the names of some of
these temporary employees. “But you'd never find them,”
he said. “They have no fixed address. They travel around
from place to place as the crops ripen.”

The employe also stated that Herbert Clutter invariably
paid his bills by check. He never kept any large sums of
cash in the house. Neither Stoecklein nor any of Clutter’s
neighbors knew of any enemies who might wish the death
of the wheat farmer. He was a popular amiable man, or
friendly terms with everyone, all agreed

By the middle of December not a single solid clue had
been found. A score of known criminals had been picked
up and questioned. None could be connected with the
crime. Agent Dewey and the sheriff feared that the four
murders had been the work of a psychopathic killer.

If that were true, it not only complicated the case but
made the officers apprehensive that the madman might
strike again. Doors which seldom had been locked in Fin-
ney County now were bolted and barred. Husbands were
reluctant to leave their wives alone after sundown.

Sheriff Robinson, in a press interview, said, “I just can’t
see a motive of any kind. Even Starkweather, referring to
Charles Starkweather, Nebraska’s mass murderer, had some
kind of motive. When people resisted him, he shot them
down. But this fellow was simply a cold-blooded, mean,
mad killer. He tied them up and executed them, one by
one.”

In spite of the fact that the murder trail seemed icy cold
that the investigation appeared to have reached a dead end
Sheriff Robinson and the KBI men worked doggedly on the
case. Every crackpot call which came into headquarters
was checked thoroughly. Three men were picked up lurk-
ing about the Clutter home. All of them, it developed, were
merely morbid sensation seekers.

Even though the KBI was exhaustively engaged in seek-
ing to solve the slaughter of the family of one of the state’s
most prominent citizens, less violent crime went on as
usual. On December 14th Ed Hayes, parole agent at Olathe,
consulted his records and learned that one of his charges
was not only missing but had been accused by the sheriff
of Johnson County of passing two worthless checks.

This parole violator was Richard E. Hickock. He was 28
years old and had been arrested half a dozen times since
1949, but he had served only one jail term. In 1958 he was
convicted of interstate transportation of a stolen car and
sent to the Kansas State Penitentiary at Lansing. He had
been paroled in the summer of 1959.

The terms of Hickock’s parole required that he report
to Hayes twice a week. But the parole officer had not heard
from Hickock since November 5th. Hayes promptly issued
a warrant, charging parole violation against Richard
Hickock.

As a matter of routine, news of Hayes’ warrant came to
the desk of KBI Agent Dewey. He studied it carefully.
Recently he had seen another such warrant issued by a
different parole officer; this particular warrant concerned
Perry Edward Smith. Smith, who was 31 years old, had
been convicted on burglary and grand larceny charges in
1956. He had been paroled in July, 1959, and had not re-
ported to his parole officer since the first week in November

Here, Agent Dewey thought, was an interesting coinci-
dence. Hickock and Smith had disappeared at about the
same time. Moreover, the records on the agent’s desk
showed that both men had served time together in the
Lansing prison. Dewey was slowly gripped by a hunch
He telephoned Tracy Hand, the Lansing warden, to ask
what Hand knew of Smith and Hickock. He was informed
that they were tough characters who, while at the pen)
tentiary, had no friends save each other

Dewey flashed a 19-state alarm which carried the de-
scriptions of the two parole violators. He also communi-
cated with the FBI, since it was presumed that Smith and
Hickock had crossed a state boundary as fugitives from
justice. Then he traveled to Johnson County, talked to the
storekeeper who complained about the two bad checks he

had cashe
bouncing
that Hick«
scription
Shortly
of his cr
carried the
Dewey \
two ex
Clutter :
At the
cide case
told Nye
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“You me
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solved
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“T recal! i
Saturday bet
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but the mar
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Robins
cumstantia
a good long |

On the follc
tightened. Age:
Warden Trac.
tion he had rs
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had obtain:
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to be made
the prison \

The anor
once worke
murders ar
He had beer
during the t
He said he
had volunt
the habi
house.

Now the
acted on that :
So, said Warde
the matter ov:
the opinion

At the mor

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€ some ol
ver find them,”
travel around

utter invariably
.y large sums of
iny of Clutter’s
t wish the death
amiable man, on

solid clue had
nad been picked
nected with the
red that the four

thic killer
the case but
,adman might

) ked in Fin-
Husbands were
sundown.

said, “I just can’t

ther, referring to

irderer, had some

m, he shot them

i-blooded, mean,
ted them, one by

| seemed icy cold,
sached a dead end,
ed doggedly on the
to headquarters
re picked up lurk-
ieveloped, were

engaged in seek-
of the state's
rime «went on as
le agent at Olathe,
ne of his charges
ised by the sheriff
thless checks.
jickock. He was 28
dozen times since
rm. In 1958 he was
f a stolen car and
Lansing. He had

red that he report
ficer had not heard
yes promptly issued

gainst Richard

warrant came to
tudied it carefully.
varrant issued by a
- warrant concerned
1s 31 years old, had
larceny charges in
159, and had not re-
t week in November.
n interesting coincl-
peared at about the
yn the agent’s desk

time together in the

ped by a hunch.
warden, to ask
was informed

hile at the peni-

gitives from
talked to the

hecks he

— a 5

had cashed for Richard Hickock. He learned that the
bouncing paper had been passed on November 18th, and
that Hickock had been accompanied by a man whose de-
scription closely corresponded to that of Smith,

Shortly before Christmas Day Agent Dewey sent four
of his crack agents to Finney County. The investigators
carried the mug shots of Richard Hickock and Perry Smith.
Dewey was interested in learning if anyone had seen the
two ex-convicts in the Holcomb area at the time of the
Clutter murders.

At the same time, Dewey called Agent Nye off the homi-
cide case. “I want to talk to Smith and Hickock,” Dewey
told Nye. ‘Maybe they have nothing whatever to do with
that slaughter in Finney County. But I’d like to talk to
them, anyway. I want you to take a couple of dozen of their
photographs and distribute them among various police
departments.”

“You mean all over the country?” asked Nye. ‘That'll
take some time.”

Dewey shook his head. “No. That’s too big a job. Dis-
tribute them throughout the Southwest, through the Texas
Panhandle, New Mexico, Arizona, Nevada, and Southern
California. I’ve noticed that usually, when a crook’s on
the lam during the winter, he heads for a warm climate.”

Nye loaded a suitcase with the mug shots of Smith and
Hickock, climbed into his car and set out upon his journey.
Agent Dewey, who certainly did not believe his hunch had
solved anything, returned to the murder investigation.

On December 28th Agent Roy Church reported to Dewey
and Sheriff Robinson that he had found a threshing ma-
chine operator who distinctly recalled having seen Richard
Hickock in Garden City on November 14th. Garden City
is only about eight miles from Holcomb, the scene of the
Clutter murders. The man knew Hickock personally.

“I recall it,” he had told Church, “because it was on the
Saturday before the Clutters were killed. Hickock was
with another guy. They’d both been drinking.”

Agent Church had shown the witness a picture of Smith,
but the man was unable to identify it positively. He had
paid scant attention to Hickock’s companion. He had spoken
to Hickock for but a few minutes, he said.

Buttressed with this fact, Dewey’s hunch grew stronger.
There was one fact, however, which remained to favor the
innocence of Smith and Hickock. “After all,” Dewey said
to Sheriff Robinson, ‘these guys had not been killers. Each
of them was convicted only once. That Clutter massacre
was just about the most vicious we’ve ever had here in
Kansas.”

Robinson agreed. “But,” he said, ‘““we’ve got enough cir-
cumstantial evidence on them now to warrant our having
a good long talk with them.”

On the following day the chain of circumstantial evidence
tightened. Agent Dewey received a registered letter from
Warden Tracy Hand. Hand was forwarding some informa-
tion he had received concerning the Clutter murders. How-
ever, he warned Dewey, the information, which he said he
had obtained from a convict, was to remain strictly confi-
dential. The informant’s name was, under no circumstances,
to be made public. If it were, there might be reprisals in

-the prison which could cost the witness his life.

The anonymous convict, Warden Hand disclosed, had
once worked on the Clutter farm. He had heard of the
murders and he said that he felt he was indirectly to blame.
He had been more or less friendly with Smith and Hickock
during the time the two suspects were in the penitentiary.
He said he had told them of Clutter’s reputed wealth. He
had volunteered the erroneous opinion that Clutter was in
the habit of keeping a considerable amount of cash in his
house.

Now the convict wondered if Smith and Hickock had
acted on that information. He was afraid that they had.
So, said Warden Hand in his letter, was he. After thinking
the matter over, Agent Al Dewey found himself sharing
the opinion of the warden and the convict.

At the moment when Dewey was studying the letter from

Sf Pate i
“We didn’t want any witnesses,” detectives said Hickock
(c.) told them when asked why whole family was murdered

Warden Hand, Lieutenant B. J. Handlon, a detective on the
police force of Las Vegas, Nevada, walked along a sunny
street some five blocks from his home. He observed a late
model sedan, bearing a pair of Iowa license plates.

Handlon is an officer with a fine record and an unerring
memory for faces and numbers. As he glanced at the sedan
it seemed to him that the number was rather more than
vaguely familiar. Then he looked at the two men, talking
earnestly in the front seat, and everything slid into place
Their descriptions fitted those of the two wanted ex-
convicts.

Handlon approached the car. “All right, boys,” he said
“Let’s not have any trouble. I’m taking you down to police
headquarters.”

The older of the two, who sat at the wheel—a man with
coal-black hair slicked back, and sideburns—scowled and
said, ‘We ain’t done anything.”

“We'll soon check that,’ said Handlon. ‘First, you're
sitting in a car which was stolen in Grant City, lowa, on
December 14th. One of you is (Continued on

page Z

Kansas Bureau of Investigation at Topeka. Ask for a couple
of their best men.”

The sheriff carefully examined the bedrooms but there
was no sign of any struggle. Mrs. Clutter’s pocketbook,
yn the bureau, contained several dollars in cash. On the
night table at the side of Nancy's bed lay a diamond ring

nd a church pledge envelope with money inside.
é ‘It doesn’t look like robbery,” the sheriff said to Dr.
} Fenton. “Have you an opinion?”

The coroner shook his head. ‘It doesn’t look like rape,
® either,” he said, “I can’t be positive until after the autopsy,
, but it doesn’t appear that either of them was sexually
molested.”

“Let’s go down to the basement,” said Sheriff Robinson.
‘T want you to take a look at the bodies down there.”

Dr. Fenton studied the bodies of father and son. He
estimated that both had been slain at about the same time
as the mother and daughter. In the basement all the fur-
niture seemed to be in its proper places. There was no
indication that Herbert and Kenyon Clutter had fought for
their lives.

Only one possible clue rewarded their search in the
basement. This consisted of two sets of footprints, each
with distinctive markings in a diamond-shaped tread,
found in the dust on the cardboard mattress cover on which
Herbert Clutter’s body lay. Careful not to disturb them,
the sheriff put them aside for further microscopic exam-
ination. When they found a suspect, his boots might match
those marks

Within the hour the deputy returned, bringing with him
Finney County Attorney Duane West. He reported that
Logan H. Sanford, head of the KBI, had promised to rush

On Complaint of Pros. West (l.), Judge Schrader signed
a warrant for arrest of two suspects held in Las Vegas

Invs. Hawkins, Rohleder, Sanford and Meier (I. to r.)
recovered the murder weapons—a shotgun and a knife

a platoon of investigators to Garden City immediately

Within two hours the four bodies had been removed to
a funeral home in Garden City, the two grown Clutter
daughters, Mrs. Donald Jarchow of Mount Carroll, Illinois
and 20-year-old Beverly Clutter, a student nurse at the
University of Kansas Medical Center, had been notified of
the tragedy, and Sheriff Robinson had concluded the first
phase of the investigation.

Herbert Clutter’s employe, Alfred Stoecklein, said he
had seen the Clutters around chore time on Saturday
night. He had gone to bed at 10 o’clock, he said,
and had heard nothing suspicious. Two other farmers who
lived near Clutter’s 980-acre property said they had no-
ticed nothing unusual. Neither had heard any shots, nor
any outcry.

Sheriff Robinson noticed that the gags apparently had
been ripped from a single piece of material. Sash cord.
similar to that used for Venetian blinds, had been used
to bind the victims. The cords on the blinds in the Clutter
house, however, were intact. Identical knots had been used
in the binding process.

Sheriff Robinson described them as “glove knots fin-
ished off with a half-hitch.” “That kind of knot,” he told
the press, ‘‘would be known to anyone who’s worked around
livestock. Whoever tied them up meant to keep them tied
up. He knew knots.” The cord, the sheriff went on to say,
is not the kind used around cattle. “But,” he added, “it is
very stout and strong.”

For the rest, the sheriff had picked up only meager in-
formation. The killer had carefully cut the wires of the
house’s two telephones. He had expertly bound and gagged
the victims, and left no evidence of a struggle. Nothing in

the lead
Among t
Church
conduct
faile
taine

had beer

y immediately.
een removed to
grown Clutter
Carroll, Illinois,
nt nurse at the
i been notified of
neluded the first

ecklein, said he
on Saturday
clock, he said,
ther farmers who
id they had no-
rd any shots, nor

apparently had
terial. Sash cord,
is, had been used
inds in the Clutter
ots had been used

glove knots fin-
of knot,” he told
s worked around
to keep them tied
¥ went on to say,
he added, “it is

only meager 1n-
the wires of the
bound and gagged
uggle. Nothing in

the house was amiss. After shooting four people in dif-
erent parts of the house, the slayer, presumably, calmly
collected the empty shells from the floor and disposed of
them. To cap it all, the killer had, as far as the sheriff
could discover, acted without a motive.

On the following day a dozen agents of the KBI, under
the leadership of Al Dewey, drove to the Clutter house.
Among the crack investigators sent from Topeka were Roy
Church, Harold Nye, and Clarence Duntz. The KBI men
conducted an extensive search of the Clutter property, but
failed to find anything of significance. Agent Dewey ob-
tained several samples of the cord with which the victims
had been tied. His men spread out over the country, seeking
a merchant who might have sold such cord in recent weeks.

That afternoon the Clutter sisters came home to attend
the funeral of their slaughtered family. Beverly Clutter
went through the house with Agent Dewey; he wanted to
make certain that nothing was missing.

? od
j cS
é
tien
:

Agt. Duntz (l.) and Lt. Handlon supported suspect who fainted after questioni

Something was—a portable radio. “It belonged to my
sister Nancy,” Beverly said. “It was a Zenith. It was about
7 by 11 inches in size. It was gray and aqua blue with
gold trimming.” She turned and gazed numbly at Dewey.
“But no one would kill my whole family for a portable
radio! It couldn’t have been worth more than $40.”

Agent Dewey agreed that the fact of the missing radio
obscured the motive for the killing more than it clarified
it. Nevertheless, he broadcast a description of the small
radio and ordered a check in every Kansas pawnshop.

In the meantime, KBI technicians carefully dusted the
Clutter house for fingerprints. This proved unrewarding.
The Clutters’ home had always been a sort of private youth
hostel; the many friends of Kenyon and Nancy made the
house a second home. The juveniles of the entire area had
made a habit of gathering there for refreshments and
record-playing. There were literally hundreds of smudged
prints on the furniture and walls of the recreation room

ng in Las Vegas jail

OCTECTNE Orvmow

+ ening

ent work
eht now,”

tf began to
deputies.
eaned out
1 hoboes.
w-around.,
\llen had
rer of the

rams was
first con-
elonged to
: Indepen-

few days
» Gilstrap,
He had not

not been

tion and in
tion, Allen
ependence.
uil on the
"Maybe
Meantime,

\Ilen had a
f a school
wn. “Come
“T’ve got

he janitor’s
s and a shirt
to a bundle.

m?” Allen

the school
throwp up

with water.
suld fit an
were they
pen to be on
tf climbed to
there was
re. Suddenly
this vantage
building was
ler scene, and
would have
More signifi-
ad water tank
to try to wash
yout being ob-
» headquarters
iscertain if any
- clothes.
for Gonzalez’
The killer had
itions to avoid
chemical test
ietermine the
lez had found
ndry mark from

eputy to check
phone shrilled.
1 Independence.
1 the way up,”
2ichet identified

The victim is
' Allen listened
ve outlined re-

DARING

sults of the trip. “The blue coat found
in the car evidently belonged to the killer,
but a gray suit and blue zipper jacket of
Richet’s is missing.”

“What about the watch ?” Allen asked.

“Richet carried a silver Elgin. I’ve got
the numbers and we’ll check pawnshops
on the way home. We're taking the
southern route back.”

As Allen hung up the receiver, Pogue
entered. He had a young man in tow. The
prisoner, white-faced and nervous, faced
the sheriff with fear in his eyes.

“This is John Melton,” Pogue an-
nounced. “The clothes found on the school
house belong to him, but he doesn’t want
to talk about it.”

“T was hi-jacked,’”’ Melton blurted. “A
man took my clothes off me and I had to
sneak home in my underwear.”

“When did that happen?” Allen asked
quietly.

“The night of the tenth.”

“What sort of looking fellow was the
hi-jacker ?”

“TT don’t remember,” Melton stam-
mered.

“You'd better remember,’ Allen
warned. ‘You're in a spot.”

Melton gave a detailed account of a
hi-jacking as he returned home from

DETECTIVE

town. But as the sheriff listened he be-
came convinced that the boy was lying.
His story had not been rehearsed prop-
erly and was full of holes.

“Lock him up,” he told Pogue, “till
his memory comes back.”

He instructed the deputy to check the
alibi, and to question Melton’s parents.
The prisoner was a minor.

ANAWAY and Hart returned to
Wichita Falls with little information
except what had been phoned in. They
had found only one person along the route
who remembered seeing Richet. A wait-
ress in Burkburnett had sold him coffee
and said he told her he was going to
Lubbock to work. She remembered that
he had ordered a hamburger to take out.
But whether this was for another person
or to eat en route, she could not say.
“Independence police knew of no one
who might murder Richet through re-
venge. And if he was carrying a passen-
get when he left home, no one knows it,”
Hanaway reported. “The only thing we
have to work on is the blue zipper jacket
which the killer left in the car. It has a
cleaner’s mark on it. Maybe we can locate
that cleaner.”

Relentlessly, hour after hour, certain that

their theories about the roadside murder

were correct, the officers fired questions at

the confused and unwilling witness, wait-

ing patiently for the break they knew
must come sooner or later.

Wichita Falls is singularly free from
underworld connections, But Allen made
the rounds of cheap dance halls and cafes
where shady characters might hang out.
At one stop he observed the proprietor
was reluctant to discuss the murder case.

“What are you holding back?” Allen
snapped. “Are you mixed up in this?”

The man decided to talk. “Carl Smith
was in here two nights after that body
was found. He’d just got out of stir in
Leavenworth, and he seemed pretty flush
for a man who hadn’t been working.”

“Do you know where he went?”

“T heard him mention Texarkana
That’s all I know.”

Allen had one more question, ‘“Any-
body with him?”

The man blinked, then added reluc-
tantly. “There was a little dame with him.
But she didn’t have anything to say.”

This statement tinkled a bell in Allen’s
memory, the suitcase strap! He got a
description of the pair and hurried back

[Continued on page 74]

f coerce Newnan

railroad pushed his motor scooter onto the switch and

headed east out of Wichita Falls, Tex. It was 8 o’clock,
Oct. 10, 1938. The morning was crisp and clear, with only a
hint of fall in the air.

The foreman leaned back and lighted his pipe, while the car
bumped over the frog onto the main line. He gave a grunt of
satisfaction, Both scooter and pipe were working fine. Ahead,
the bright sun danced on the rails and on the highway that
paralleled the roadbed.

As the foreman passed the city limits marker, he noticed what
appeared to be a pair of legs protruding above a small hump in
the railroad grade. He closed the throttle and coasted to the
spot. His feeling of contentment suddenly vanished. Before him
lay the crumpled body of a man.

He noted that the corpse’s shirt was rolled up beneath the
armpits and the exposed torso .was skinned and bruised. The
head and face were covered with blood and abrasions.

“He's been hit by a train,” the foreman muttered to himself as
he threw the car in reverse and raced back over the rails to
the yards.

“There’s a dead man out by the tracks,” he gasped to the
yardmaster as he brought his car to a stop.

The yardmaster turned and ran to a phone. Ina few minutes
he was excitedly relaying the message to Desk Sergt. Sid
Williams of the Wichita Falls police department. Williams
rushed a call through to the sheriff, then sent Detectives Gene
Brown and Elmer McCord to the scene.

When they arrived they found Sheriff Pat Allen with Depu-
ties Roy Hart and C. R. Pogue, who had preceded them to the
spot by a few seconds.

As the officers viewed the body, Sheriff Allen suddenly ex-
claimed, “Men, this is not a railroad accident. This is murder !”

The officers looked on in astonishment as Allen kneeled beside
the motionless form.

“Look at the deep gashes in his head,” Allen pointed out.
“Those weren’t made by a train.”

r | 4 HE water service foreman for the Fort Worth and Denver

E PULLED a blade of grass and carefully replaced a small
piece of skull that had fallen over the victim’s right eye.
“Looks as if he was dragged here by the heels,”’-the sheriff
continued. “Weeds and grass are caught in his clothing. But
the murderer hacked his forehead after he lugged the body here,
otherwise that loose piece of skull would have been shaken off.”
“He's been robbed,” Deputy Pogue said. He pointed to the
torn watch pocket and a broken belt strap. “His watch was
yanked off.”

At this point the officers were joined by Lewis E. Hanaway,
chief of detectives of the Wichita Falls police department.
Hanaway viewed the body and listened to the immediate findings.
“He must have been dragged some distance,” he observed, ‘from
the amount of weeds caught under his belt.”

“About thirty yards, I’d say,” Deputy Hart announced, as he
began following a plainly-marked trail.

The other officers followed. Vegetation had been crushed
where the body had been pulled along. Here and there dried
bloodstains on the leaves left no doubt of the acts performed by
the murderer in disposing of the body.

The trail ran almost directly toward the highway. Hart
found more evidence as he neared the road. He picked up
a bloodstained, brown felt hat which had several gashes in
the crown,

On the heels of this find came a cry from Deputy Pogue. He
had found a wallet. Apparently it had been thrown aside into
the weeds. When it was opened it was found to contain eight
$1 bills. The officers were elated to learn it also held a social
security card, made out to George Richet, Independence, Kan.

“This must be the victim’s wallet,” Allen observed. “But why
would the killer take his watch and overlook the money ?”

“Looks like more than robbery,’ Hanaway said, “or else
Richet did the killing and dropped his pocket book in the
struggle.”

In addition to the money and card, the pocketbook contained
a telegram. It was addressed to George Richet, at Independence,
Kan. The message asked him to come to Lubbock, Tex., at once,
where a job awaited him. The telegram was signed, “Gilstrap.”

“That’s probably going to make the victim easy to identify,”

Ter Seeteke ut dol. a

Allen said. “He must have been on his
way to the job when he met with
foul play.”

They pushed on toward the highway.
Beside the road they came upon dark,
encrusted spots which were undoubtedly
bloodstains. The soft sand was heavily
imprinted with car tracks.

A curious crowd had followed closely
the officers’ quick arrival. While the
officers were viewing the body, they
had surged over the ground, obliterat-
ing any possible tracks of the escaping
murderer.

Allen had dispatched a messenger for
Justice of the Peace C. K. Herrington.
The officers returned for the inquest, then
continued their work of searching for
evidence at the scene.

Suddenly Allen noted a man running
across the railroad right-of-way toward
him. “There’s a deserted car parked in
the bar pit about a half mile up the
road, Sheriff!” the man called excitedly.

The officers jumped to their cars. At
the spot designated, a 1930 model Ford
sedan stood beside the road. This time
Allen prepared for the crowd that was
sure to follow. He stationed officers to
keep the curious citizens back until the
car could be thoroughly investigated.

“Watch carefully before any of you
trample the ground,” Hanaway called.
The precaution was unnecessary. The
hard ground from the paving to the
bar pit bore no discernible tracks.

tT HE first thing that caught the officers’
attention was the Kansas license. The
car, they decided, must be the property
of George Richet whose social security
card was made out in Independence.

The front seat was bare and bore no
bloodstains. In a cursory inspection, the
car gave no clues that it was connected
with the tragedy. But between the seats
was a tool chest. Two men lifted it out
and Hanaway grasped the metal hasp and
lifted the lid. The chest was filled with
carpenter’s tools. Attention froze in-
stantly to one object in the chest, a
shingling hatchet, its flat steel sides
matted with blood and hair.

“The murder weapon!” Allen spoke.
“No wonder the man had such deep
gashes in his head. And he was murdered
in this car!”

Hart next reached into the back seat
and brought out a loose bundle of faded
blue cloth and a blue serge coat. “Front
seat cover is spotted with blood,” he said.

“This much is plain,’ Allen pointed
out. “The victim was driving and the
murderer was riding in the back seat. He
took the hatchet out of the chest and
struck the driver on the head with the
sharp edge.”

“The victim was evidently a carpenter
on his way to work in Lubbock,” Hana-
way concluded.

Meanwhile Pogue had stooped and was
peering underneath the car. He called out,
“Looks like they had battery trouble. The
battery brackets have been eaten away
by corrosion and the battery is swinging
loose on the cable and has broken the
ground wire.”

Hart knelt beside Pogue. ‘““What’s that
strap hanging down from the battery?”
he asked.

Pogue grasped the strap and pulled but
it held fast. “It’s fastened from above,”
he complained. “That’s a queer thing.”

Hanaway came to the men’s assistance.
While Pogue crawled underneath the
machine, the captain jerked the floor
board up and saw that the strap was tied
to the car frame.

“Someone tried to tie the battery up
with the strap,” he called. “Looks like
they were trying hard to get away with-
out summoning help.”

A. startled exclamation from Pogue
drew all attention. From underneath the
car, he called, “This car has been driven
over the murdered man! There's hair and
blood on the sharp edges of the chassis.”

“Then that accounts for all the tracks
we found around the pools of blood back
there,’ Hanaway replied. ‘The killer
didn’t overlook any bets.”

Allen untied the strap from the frame
and stuffed it into his pocket. “If that
isn't off an old-fashioned : suitcase, I’m
fooled. It’s light and probably was a
wonian’s suitcase. Do you suppose there
is a woman mixed up im this?”

“Now that would be an angle,’ Hana-
way exclaimed.

The officers hurried into town. ‘‘We’ve
got to work fast,” Allen said, “The man
has been dead some ten or twelve hours.”

“T’ll start a shakedown of hitchhikers
and railway bums,” Allen said. “Can your
department fingerprint the car?”

Hanaway nodded. Soon afterward he
sent Ivey Gonzalez, chief of the police
identification bureau, to the guarded car.
Gonzalez reported shortly. “I dusted the
entire car and only got two prints and
they belong to the victim. The hatchet
handle had no prints that were readable.”

-Hanaway concealed his disappoint-
ment. “Did you find anything else?”

“T made a test of the hair on the blade
of the hatchet. It matches that caught on
the automobile chassis, and hair from the
victim’s head.”

Sheriff Allen first instructed his depu-
ties to pick up all suspicious characters
seen loitering in the vicinity, then called
the railroad police to check box car bums.
With this work set in motion, he called
on Dr. T. C. Lynch, county health officer,
who had performed the autopsy.

“Death probably occurred from the
deep gashes in the man’s skull,” Dr.
Lynch said. ‘There were six severe cuts.
In addition he had two broken ribs, and
his back was practically skinned.”

Lacerations on the victim’s back looked
like tire burns, the doctor said, and he
was sure a car had passed over the body
a number of times. Death had occurred
some ten hours before the body was
found,

Allen returned to his office and hur-
riedly sent three telegrams, one to the
police department at Independence, an-
other to the motor vehicle license bureau
at Topeka and the third to the chief of
police at Lubbock. As he worked, Hana-
way entered the office. “I’ve got a hunch
it’s going to be a long, tough job,” Allen
said. “It happened outside the city limits

but I'd like to have your department work
with us on it.”

“Tl assign myself to it right now,”
Hanaway replied promptly.

By mid-afternoon the sheriff began to
reap results from his orders to deputies.
The town had been literally cleaned out
of hitchhikers and freight train hoboes.
A motley crew filled the jail run-around.
But after hasty questioning, Allen had

little hope of finding the murderer of the

strange young man in this lot.

The response to his telegrams was
prompt, and proved the officers’ first con-
clusions. The Ford sedan belonged to
George Richet, a carpenter of Indepen-

. dence. Richet had left home a few days

back to go to Lubbock, where Gilstrap,
a contractor, had hired him. He had not
arrived in Lubbock and had not been
heard from since he left home.

To complete the identification and in
hopes of getting more information, Allen
sent Hart and Hanaway to Independence.
“See if you can strike his trail on the
way,” the sheriff suggested. ‘Maybe
someone saw the two together. Meantime,
[’ll check up here.”

Early the next morning Allen had a
phone call. It was the janitor of a school
building on the east side of town. “Come
out here, quick,” he called. “I’ve got
something to show you.”

Allen was ‘soon viewing the janitor’s
find; a pair of khaki trousers and a shirt
soaked with water and tied into a bundle.

“Where did these come from?” Allen
asked.

“Found them on top of the school
house. They must have been thrown up
from below.”

TS clothes still dripped with water.
Allen estimated they would fit an
average-sized man. But why were they
wet? And how did they happen to be on
the school house? The sheriff climbed to
the top of the building, but there was
nothing else to be found there. Suddenly
his eyes narrowed. From this vantage
point, he could see that the building was
directly in line with the murder scene, and
the first building the killer would have
passed if he came that way. More signifi-
cant still, the Denver railroad water tank
was close by, a good place to try to wash
away the bloodstains without being ob-
served. Allen rushed back to headquarters
and called on Gonzalez to ascertain if any
bloodstains remained on the clothes.

The sheriff was prepared for Gonzalez’
report, no obvious stains. The killer had
taken the necessary precautions to avoid
being traced this way. A chemical test
would be necessary to determine the
matter finally. But Gonzalez had found
something else, a clear laundry mark from
a local laundry.

Allen had just sent a deputy to check
the laundry when his telephone shrilled.
Hanaway was calling from Independence.
“We didn’t find a thing on the way up,”
he reported, “but Mrs. Richet identified
the picture of her husband. The victim is
definitely George Richet.” Allen listened
attentively as the detective outlined re-

DARING

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Forgotten Girls

[Continued from page 4]

The statistical results speak for them-
selves: 98 per cent of the girls released
between 1930 and 1940 have not come
back. And 87 per cent have since either
married or obtained honest employment.

In the background of each discarded
and forgotten girl whose future life for a
short period is entrusted to our care,
there usually is a stark and poignant tale
of human miseryand frustration, of abject
misery and barbarous treatment. Despite
this terrific handicap we have managed
to create and implant within them an
honest urge to seek a better way of life.
If our efforts have aided them to achieve
permanent rehabilitation, thereby de-
creasing the 1,500,000 major offenses
committed by boys and girls each year,
and lessening the $30,441 spent every
minute to combat crime, then we have
done our job two-fold. For, above and
beyond the dollars saved the public, is the
saving of these girls’ threadbare hopes,
the resurrection of their long-forgotten
ideals.

I have seen them come in beaten, be-
draggled, hope dead in their eyes. Others
have acted stubborn, sullen, hardened far

beyond their youthful vears. Then, with-
in a relatively short time I have seen
them go out into the world. their
shoulders back, their steps quick and
firm, Their attitude of defeatism is re-
placed by one of confidence; their hang-
dog expression evaporates and they wear,
instead, an expression of pride, ot
strength of character gained trom the
security of their newly acquired seli-
respect. That they are grateful. we know.
It is clearly evident in their parting hand-
shake, their tears of gratitude, their
simple word of thanks.

We who work with these girls regret
but one thing—that the reform measures
responsible for rescuing these girls from
the black fate which tormerly awaited
them have not become nation-wide in
scope. Our experience has taught us the
value, both to the girls and the tax-payving
public, of treating these so-called in-
corrigibles humanely and intelligently. I
can’t urge you too strongly to remember
the “forgotten girls” of your community.
Good citizenship demands that it is h
time they are given the opportunity
come into their own.

Hitch-Hike Lovers

[Continued from page 39]

to his office. Here he met a disgusted
Hanaway.

“What’s the matter?” Allen asked.

“That fool kid, Melton!” Hanaway
rasped. “He’s told a pretty story. I bore
right down on him and when he found
out it was murder we were investigating,
he spilled his information. Seems he made
up the hi-jacking yarn to save himself
from a licking. His folks don’t allow him
out at night and he was trying to put one
over on them.”

“What about the clothes?” Allen asked.

“He held them under a hydrant and
soaked them so they’d be heavy enough
to throw. He flung them on the school
house and told his folks he’d been robbed.
The girl he was out with corroborates
his story and I checked several places
they went that night.”

“Then I guess you'd better go to Tex-
arkana,” Allen said quietly.

The amazed detective listened to the
sheriff’s information and quickly agreed.
They knew Carl Smith by reputation. He
was a tough thug. Before starting the
long trip, they called Texarkana police.
The answer was confusing. Texarkana
had placed a pickup order on the convict
as soon as Leavenworth should release
him. “Evidently he hasn’t been released,”
they told Hanaway, “or we’d have been
notified.”

“Might be a slip-up,” Allen suggested.
“We'll call Leavenworth.”

In a few minutes they knew that the
convict had been released from Leaven-
worth on Oct. 8, and probably was in the
vicinity of Wichita Falls or Texarkana as
he had relatives in both places. Hart and
Hanaway immediately left for Texarkana.

Meanwhile, Allen had taken the lug-
gage strap which had been used to tie up
the car battery, to a leather store. His
surmise had been correct. The strap be-
longed to a woman’s suitcase.

As the investigation had gone along,

Allen had sent out numerous reports to
neighboring officers and to the FBI. Now
he determined to add the information
about the strap. He sent a complete and
detailed report to the FBI and asked the
aid of the G-men. Complete cooperation
was promised promptly.

Numerous arrests had been made, both
in Wichita Falls and adjoining counties.
Allen drove through many = sleepless
nights but each successive lead ran into
a dead end. The weary officer reviewed
his chances of success. There might be
a pickup of the murderer somewhere else.
or they might locate him through the blue
zipper jacket, or trace Richet’s watch or
gray suit. All of these objects were de-
scribed over and over in daily bulletins.
Hanaway had enlisted the assistance of
the National Cleaners and Dyers Asso-
ciation, passing on to them a photograph
of the cleaner’s number in the blue coat.
Every issue of the association’s trade
magazine that went out bore a request for
information on the mark.

While the sheriff worked in Wichita
Falls. Hart and Hanaway were busy in
Texarkana. Officers there listened to their
story. “If your man is here, we know
where to find him,” the chief asserted.
Within 30 minutes, the suspect was
brought in. He had been hiding with
relatives, knowing he would be picked up
by local officers if found.

The prisoner eyed the Wichita Falls
officers. “What’s the idea?” he growled.
“I ain’t done nothing to get you on my
trail.”

“If you can prove that, we ‘ll be as glad
as you are,” Hanaway said. “You were in
Wichita Falls on October eleventh with
a woman. We want to know what you
were doing there.”

“Sure I was there. And I bought a cup
of coffee fora dame. What’s that to you?”

“There was a murder committed there
on the night of the ninth,” Hanaway said.

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BAUGHN, Melvin, white, hanged at Seneca, Kansas, on 9-18-1868, -
"Prom the Leavenworth TIMES, Sept. 2). = Two years ago Jesse S. Nennis, a citizen of
Seneca, Nemaha County, was shot and killed by Melvin Baughn, The murderer, made his
escape into Missouri, where he was subsequently captured, brought to Seneca, and lodged ;
in the County Jail. ile remained there but a short time, when he broke jail and made
good his escapee He was at large until the latter part of June, 1868, when he was
captured in Missouri, returned to Seneca, and was lodged in jail to await his trial
for murder, The District Court (Judge R, St. Clair Graham, presiding) was convened
Auge 5, 1868, and, after a trial which lasted two days, he was convicted of man-
slaughter in the first degree, and sentenced bo he hanbed Sept. XHAJ 18, 1868, 4A which
sentence was duly carricd into effect. The inclosure in which Baughn was hung was
on the south of and adjoining the jail. It was made by erecting two post, twelve feet
apart and the same distance from the building, and then covered with canvas, The
gallows was a bungling contrivance, and allowed the prisoner to fall but four feet,
The prisoner was taken from the jail at 3 P.M. He was a good-looking man, about 32
years of age, six feet high, sharp-featured, black hair and eyes, and weiging about
1,5 pounds. He wore a suit of black and was smoothly shaven, He ascneded the gallows

with a firm step. On reaching the top a prayer was offered after which he shook

hands with those present, When he took the hand of Mr, McCormick of Wathena, (who

had come to take the body in charge, at Baughn's request) he remarked: "It's rough] 4
It's rough}! The cap was drawn over his face, the rope placed around his neck (which he
helped Sheriff Kyger to adjust,§ his arms pinioned, and a prayer offered. Then, at

3:18, the drop fell and the body of Melvin Baughn was dangling between Heaven and

earth, The fall was not sufficient to break his neck, and it was not until 3:5

o'clock that life was pronounced extinct, The coffin, carried outside the inclosure,

and the people allowed for the last time to gaze upon the lifeless form of the man

whose name has been a terror to the people of Kansas and Missouri, We bbtain the

following additional particulars from the Nemaha COURIER: Baughn maintained an extraordinary
composed condition of mind, the only signs of fear or affection being when he stepped from
the jail door in sight of the gallows, and at that moment met and recordnized a

friend, when his eyes suffused with tears and he said, almost inaudibly: ‘It's rather rough}?
and then, while shaking hands with his friend, imparted in a slightly tremulous voice some
words of farewell, Immediately recovering, he stepped with a firm step to the platform with
the Sheriff, and was seated, The black cap was placed upon his head, and while standing upon
the fatal drop he was asked what he had to say. His remarks were: 'I believe it is
customary for persons in my condition to have something to say. With me it is
different; I have nothing. I have been arraigned, tried and convicted, and must now

suffer a broken law. This is all,t Baughn was 32 years of ase, He left a wife and

child living in Marshall, Saline Co,, Mo. When lj-years-old, Baughh was a bartender

in Franklin %HKX, Tenn., was regarded as a bright and quite forward youth; was

fond of excitement, and was indulged to a considerable extent, and from this time he

dates the commencemmant of a downward career, which has gone on from robbery, murder

and all grades of crime, until the end has brought him to the gallows, The prisoner

was six feet, one inch, in height, and at the execution was dressed in a suit of ak%
BAAXKXAAK black alpaca, pleated bosom shirt, white stockings and slippers. All the

letters and papers, of which he had received many during his imprisonment, he burned

before leaving the jail, At the last interviews with the ministers in the jail he

prayed audibly. He left fn his cell a letter directed. to Rev. Mr. Stewart, of which

the following is a copy: 'A few words from the jail, As the hour of my approaching

doom draws near, I feel it my duty to say a few words ere I depart from this world

of wickedness and sin. I have but a few hours to live, and yet, I cannot say that

I feel any great desire to prolong the time, I have endeavored to make peace with

my God. I have prayed to him both night and day, And I feel and believe that my

prayers have been heard and answered. It seems hard, it is true, to die an

ignominious death, upon the gallows. But I believe that I shall be better off, for

I have had but little comfort the last few years of my life, Therefore, I feel re-

signed to my fate; I feel that Lam fully prepared to meet it. And I feel that in a

great measure I am indebted to Rv. Mr. Stewart and Mr, Gray for my reconciliation to Gode
And I am very thankful for the kindness shown me by those reverend gentlemen, And I

hope that they may never again be called upon to administer unto a human being
placed in my wusaxsuanx unfortunate condition. I can never repay their kindness

ote Re a ates eel ate i Watley ar i sls ee ae

but if the prayers or a penitent sinner avail anything they have mine for their ‘future
_ welfare. Mr. Stewart - I would be thankful, to have you write to my wife after my

- deaths; let her know how I died and try to console her in her hour of affliction.
Adéress Mrs. L. Aw Raughn, Marshall, Saline aie ih Missouri," . TIMES, New York,
NY, September 28, 1868 (7/3.) . :

q < @

ALA

Pe Se TS

Bullets came from door of this room.

the beefy lad from Wyandotte County.

From other sources — neighbors,
friends, former schoolmates and high
school teachers of young Andrews —
the police lieutenant learned that the
over-sized youth was considered a model
boy, and many folks thought he was a
genius. Teen-agers considered him “a
brain.”

He was regarded as the smartest pupil
ever to attend the Wolcott grade school.
He had graduated from Washington
High at the top of his class in 1957.
Moreover, hé had made the highest
scores ever recorded at that high school
in special national merit examinations
and was considered a brilliant student
with a potential inventive genius.

“Lee was almost always quiet and
polite,” one neighbor said. “He was big-
ger than most boys his age, but he was
a quiet lad. I'll bet he never had a fight
in his life. He didn’t smoke, drink, or
swear — and he dated girls but not too
frequent. Lee’s the model boy of our
little town.”

Another neighbor remembered that
Lowell Lee Andrews liked to hunt in
the woods alone, rather than hang out
with noisy crowds of teen-agers. “He
had a superior mind — maybe a little
know-it-all attitude, too.”

From Lawrence came the report of
the local investigators. They had talked
with one of the students rooming at the
same campus house. The youth had
told them he had met Lowell Lee
Andrews about eight-thirty Friday night.

that way with the roads like they were
to get a typewriter. Lee said he wanted
to get the theme out of the way before
the last minute so he decided to come
after the typewriter.”

The student stated that he had never
noticed anything unusual about Lowell
Andrews, and considered the Wolcott
youth a good student. He remembered
how the Andrews would come to the
room to visit Lee, and usually take him
out to Sunday dinner before leaving.
He had never met the parents.

The landlady of the rooming house
had said much the same thing about
Lowell Lee Andrews. “The boy never
gave us any trouble. He was gentleman-
ly at all times and kept his room neat
and orderly. Lee always paid his rent
right on the dot until this last month.
When I mentioned it to him he laughed
and said he must have forgotten it,
and that he would pay it right away.
He never did, though.”

Another student roomer told the of-
ficers that he recalled a Christmas gift
Lowell Lee had received from his par-
ents the previous Christmas—a .22 cali-
ber rifle.

The caliber of this weapon popped
into Lieutenant Athey’s mind when he
read the preliminary report from the
autopsy surgeon. Opal, Jennie, and Wil-
liam Andrews had been shot with bul-
lets from a .22 calibe rrifle. Andrews
had also received numerous wounds
from a foreign made Luger pistol.

Athey made another phone call to
the Lawrence police. He asked that a
canvass be made of gunshops in that
area. “Find out if any Luger pistols
were sold recently. Shouldn’t be too
hard—that’s not a common type gun.
We're going to check around this neck
of the woods for similar sales.”

Athey stopped in at the county head-
quarters to check with Detectives Smiley
and Payne. They told him that the inter-

Bloodstains highlighted grim story.

;

INS Sa
Officer points to bloody evidence.

rogation of the cool-headed young col-
lege student had thus far netted nothing

‘of value. The lad was clinging solidly

to his original story, and there were no
holes in it. Athey gave them the infor-
mation he had rounded up, then decid-
ed to check with university officials.
He learned from the school that
Lowell Lee Andrews had maintained
good grades in his college studies. The
six-foot, two-inch student had taken a
full schedule—fifteen credit hours—and
was possibly overloaded with home work
and reading assignments. Moreover, at
recent mid-term examination the 260-
pound sophomore had flunked out on an
examination in sociology. His major sub-
ject, the school advised, was zoology.
Lieutenant Athey joined the inter-
rogation of the calm youngster. He ask-
ed about the failure in sociology, and

' wanted to know if Lee’s parents had

raised a fuss about that. The youth re-
plied negatively. His parents had been
satisfied with his college work.

Athey asked about the unpaid rent
at the rooming house. He was informed
that money had been a little tight with
the Andrews, since the strike at the air-
lines. The father had been putting both
youngsters through college with money
obtained from crops on his 240-acre
farm, which he worked only in a casual
manner. This year the crops had been
quite bad and cash had been tight.

Checking the youth’s bank, the police
found this to be true. In the previous
year, when crops were good, deposits
totalling $1,400 had been made in the
youth’s checking account by the father,
This year only one deposit had been
made—$103.99. Against this dwindling
balance the youth had written a check
for his room rent, made out on the
day of the slayings. The present balance
was only $64.73.

“Were you afraid there wouldn’t be

DETECTIVE CASES

Se a eee

enough money to finance the balance of
your college education?” Athey asked
the youth.

A friend of the-Andrews family, Rev-
erend V. C. Dameron, now ap-
peared at the county police headquarters
and asked to speak with the young stu-
dent. The minister was allowed to in-
terview the youth, in the hope he could
break through the wall of calmness.

“How is school?” he asked.

The boy shrugged. “All right.”

“How are the courses going?”

“They’re fine,” Lowell Andrews re-
plied. “I’m doing a lot of work, but
they're just fine.”

“Did you have a nice Thanksgiving
with your family?”

“Not particularly,” Lowell replied.
“We had turkey and ham.”

“You want to help find who did this
don’t you?” Reverend Dameron asked.
“You want to take a lie detector test so
these officers can go ahead and look for
the right person. You didn’t do this, did
you?”

Lowell Lee Andrews shrugged again.
“T did it.” ;

When this admission was revealed to
the police, County Attorney Robert J.
Foster took over the questioning of the
young man.

“Your mother, father, and sister were
in the living room when you shot them?”
Foster asked.

“Yeah,” young Andrews replied.

“Where were you standing?”

“I was in the bedroom.”

“Which of the three did you shoot
first?” Foster asked.

The youth shrugged, a nervous habit
with him. “I honestly don’t remember.”

“Did you say that all three of them

were in the living room?”

“Yes.”

“Your father’s body was found in the
kitchen,” the county attorney said.
“How was that?”

“He ran in there.”

“How many times did you shoot
him?”

“Several times,” Lowell Andrews
said. “After he was in the kitchen.”

“He was also shot in the living room?”

“Yes,” Andrews said. “And he ran
into the kitchen.”

“You shot them until they stopped
moving?” Foster demanded.

“Yes.”

“Why?” Foster asked.

“I don’t know,” Andrews said, shrug-
ging nervously. “I don’t know why.”

Continued questioning of the burly
suspect brough forth an admission some

.time later that he had been concerned

over his lack of finances and had been
brooding about them. He had decided
that he would like the family farm and
the $1,800 he knew his father had in
a savings account. His first idea was to
poison the family so he could inherit
the money and property. Then he
thought of burning the house down
while they slept. At four-thirty Friday
afternoon, less than three hours before
he put his final plan into action, Lowell
Lee Andrews decided to use his .22
caliber gift rifle and a Luger pistol he
had bought in Lawrence to bring his
DETECTIVE CASES

REAL

ven a

dreamed-of inheritance to the point of
actuality.

He disclosed how he had driven his
father’s car to a bridge across the Kaw
River in Lawrence, and hurled the mur-
der weapons into the icy water. He said
he'd gone on to his rooming house, met
a fellow student and chatted, taken in a
movie, then returned home to Wolcott
to report the mass murder of his family.

Asked how he felt about killing his
father, mother, and sister, Lowell An-

eed

Psychiatrists were more than puzzled by this youth’s strange actions.

drews admitted that he had loved all
three of them. But he added, “I’m not
sorry and I’m not glad I did it. I just
don’t know why I did it.”

Lowell Lee Andrews was arraigned
on November 29th, 1958, on a charge
of first degree murder and returned to
Wyandotte County Jail.

Tried and convicted as charged, the
multiple murderer paid for his crimes
on the gallows at Lansing, Kansas, on
Friday, November 30th, 1962. *

etal . a ¥ wa

BATES, Martin We, white, 19, hanged at Burlingame, Kansas, op, Bebruary. 20, 1867.

ts ,

‘ -
: From the desk of July 24, 1982 *
Lact abaes Zi Sarah L. Walker-Hitt ies Be
Sy spose be P.O. Box 277, Lyndon, KS 66451 ibe hs i
‘gs oe Mr. Watt Espy Be Ra a: AS
be eR sel Oe CE eats Capital Punishmeny Research Project Seek cee
esa Oe Sukie 2 ace Box 6205 — Law Library Benen) or
Crees eee University, AL 35486 35486 — 6205 pect Ii "
a Re Dear Mr. Espy: ies
rein yee 2s it Your letter of June 30 was passed on to me in the Osage oe
COED A by Ua RR vie County Historical Society to see if I could give you °
+4 LPS ae the lilvormation yuu requeccteu. aes
RS nals I've been doing genealogical research in Osage County Pee -
Leds kas pita? and have been gathering old records. I did find the Shee og
ee fe Pareto following about the Mr. Bates, you mentioned. TI can't on ee Me
Barre eed A “ tell you where the info. came from; it was in a notebook x an
ne, Py abe Cat Be I found called "Burlingame History" with no sources or “i
Fee cata en author amongst some things stored in our museum. Any- i 3 t.
MEP eas aanees way here it is: “ es
Ye agi pall aes shes "An unusual thing took place in the history of : é
“rove ofsde 5" | Burlingame. A man named Polley was sheriff and it
pebitya tat at 7 became his duty to arrest a man named Bates. There
two stories as to why he was arrested but for sure he
en Geen was arrested by Polley. Nandcuffed and shackled he was R
CAs ey, eae confined in the A.M. Jarboe house just north of town. . .
oa gids. sae The sheriff was called away, leaving his father, be
Oar ary ioee re be 2 feeble old man in charge of the prisoner. Bates
el RCE Re ERT induced the elder Polley to loosen his handcuiits and
MARU des red reae ota iinty then brutally shot the old man. His hands being free,
i) SO ee he took an axe and broke his shackles and made his
ely nag aes 4 2 a get-away. \ :
ORM sta LNs ont as He was caught at or near Lawrence by a party of ay ©
RMR 88 iy RSS Burlingame men, On the way back he broke away but was Cee agi 3
mB, clnwr tay ct 7g soon recovered. The killing of the elder Polley was
Me Akt aoe i gnndemnedxkexke so needless that a jury soon found Bates
We QOoTNeR ate Cae guilty of first degree murder and he was condemed to be ;
ers akey YE ie : ard hung by the neck until he was dead. This order was he
MPEP Ropes eos ty earried out and he was hung in the court house, a two- :
et: pieics Peery aa story building which stood on the later site of the
sk UP ar ae : Schuyler school, f
ere Bates made a wonderful speech before the drop fell, -
ANY nok telling those who heard him to gaat by his disgraceful
Ae tA belt end and to live aye honorable lives 3
Soh Rites t ich sent aaa Deis ag wea ere i ieee sceeepimeiieiiat :
tA Bee dengue from wage: Hangings in : Wasa cb: by” Louise Be y3 KANSAS. HISTORIOAL
Ve » QUARTERLY, August, : 03, P 291, Filed’ KANSAS = MU - BON el ae ee i,
ame, eee ; FS ee "ei

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ETURNING inside of the house,

| Dewey and Robinson began a

methodical, hands-off examination of
the unfortunate Clutters, and the bed-
‘rooms where they. had slept the night
before. They painstakingly refrained
‘from disturbing anything so that the
ground would be virgin for the investi-
gation bureau’s sharpshooting techni-
cians.

County Attorney West arrived during
the checkup and joined in. After an
hour and a half the three repaired to
* the big living room to. compare observa-
tions and conclusions and reach the
common ground as to possible motive
and the pattern followed by the fiendish
killer, or killers. :

‘They found themselves in agreement
on these points: *

. The deadly intruders had entered the :

house by simply opening an unlocked
door. From the workmanlike job of
trussing, and the fact that adhesive tape
was used for gags, the: murders were
committed by professional criminals.
The cord used to bind the victims
had: been cut. into equal-length pieces
before. the raid for the premeditated
purpose of being used as it was used.
The cord. was nylon, never knotted be-
fore, three-sixteenths of an inch in di-
ameter and probably the same as that
used in the farming. country to start
milo loaders. The milo (a sorghum
feed) harvest was in full swing in the
Arkansas River Valley and consequent-
ly, even though recently purchased, the
cord would be difficult to run down. .
All except the boy were clad in pa-

"jamas, meaning they must have been

surprised in their sleep. In view of the
boy’s jeans and T-shirt—and bare feet—
he probably was awakened by strange

one hunting for something and he, or
they, became infuriated when they
didn’t find it,” Robinson said.

The officers were still raking their
heads for a possible motive when three
KBI detectives and five technicians,
loaded with cameras: dnd other equip-
ment, parked in front of the house.

Dewey introduced his colleagues—
Clarence Duntz, Roy Church and Har-
old Nye—and: the laboratory experts to
the sheriff and prosecutor, and briefed
the state team on what had gone before
and what a preliminary investigation
seemed to indicate.

“This is the biggest job we’ve ever
bumped into,” Dewey said, “and it is
maybe one of the reasons we were or-
ganized in the first place.”

Robinson then went to call the county
coroner so that he could remove the
bodies for autopsies and personal ex-
amination once the technicians had
taken their hundreds of pictures, finger-
prints and scoured the house inside and
out in a relentless hunt for leads.

As the day wore on, Robinson’s depu- .

ties and police from: Garden City and
Holcomb joined the push. News of the

' awful tragedy had sped over the coun-

tryside and by mid-afternoon a crowd
of grieving friends had gathered at a

‘proscribed distance from the cluster of

noises, dressed hurriedly and was taken -

captive when he left his room to inves-
tigate the source of disturbance.

It was obvious the Clutters had been.
trussed and’ gagged before they were
nee They had been
executed by.a heavy shotgun, probably
a .12 gauge. i

Motive? That was a stickler. Cursory
examination seemed to indicate nothing
had been stolen. There was no evidence
the house had been rifled as everything
seemed to be in its place. And two wal-
lets, plus’ a church donation envelope
containing money had been left un-
touched, as were several pieces of jew-

elry.

But if robbery did not lay behind the
wanton murders, what did? Revenge?

Robinson and West knew the Clutters
well. They were a friendly, charitable,
good natured people and not the sort
to engender feuds or hatred. No one
had ever been heard to rail against Herb
Clutter’s success as a farmer and civic
leader. He was as natural and com-
fortable to deal with: as an old shoe
despite his self-earned wealth and
prominence. Revenge, then, seemed out
of the question, Or was it? The bru-
ag and finality of the killings all bore
the hallmarks of a vendetta. ©

“The only answer ‘seems to be tha
the Clutters were massacred by some-

farm buildings.

Word of the sickening calamity had
been sent to two away-from-home Clut-
ter daughters, last of -the family, and
they were flying west from Southwest-
ern College and Mount Carmel, Illinois.

All Sunday, Sunday night and Mon-
day morning the bloodhounds of the

law labored Seaptioning neler and °
checking. Yet

checking, checking an
the sharp, experienced eyes, minds and

scientific detection equipment brought .

to light little more than Robinson,
Dewey and West had found in their
hour and a half preliminary investi-
gation. ;

The Clutter’s housekeeper, who had
Saturday night and Sunday off, was
brought home. She was unable to find
anything missing from the house. Close
friends of the victims also took inven-
tory and arrived at the same conclusion.
When KBI Director Sanford appeared,
drawn away from the helm of his ship
by the enormity of the crime,’ he ques-
tioned his detectives and technicians
and then was forced to admit to the
press that no pertinent advance had
been made in the direction of the cold
blooded killers.

R. ROBERT FENTON, Finney
County coroner, made one con-
tribution to the manhunt. In addition
to having been shot point-blank in the

‘face with a .12 gauge shotgun loaded

with birdshot, he discovered that Herb
Clutter’s throat had also been cut. The
post mortem, however, had been un-
able to determine if he had been slashed
before or after being shot. This new
touch added to the unreality of the ex-
ecutions.

On the third day of the operations at
the Clutter ranch, one meager clue came
to light. A microscopic study, of 2

POLICE FILES

close-up photo <a}
of cardboard (a
mattress) on whi
father and v
vealed the (
diamond d_ _
Samples of the
bodies were take
around but the
common variety
ering its source |

No enemies of
found and no on
member having
strangers during
or after the who!

Early in Decei
dead end, Direct:
received a call fr«
at Lansing. An
chief was en rot
Once there he w
den’s office with
force O’Brien. O’
in the wheat fie
When Sanford tc
convict he shoo}

Back in Top
long distanced
den City. Dewey
gation, had be
nator of the hun
to earth.

“Al,” Sanford
first time, that v
case. This is ho

The KBI chi
convict by the n:
had asked to see
the Finney Cou
conference wit!
informed him t
had, in a mome
mentioned that
a wheat king b
side Ho
he had I a
wealthy ......, |
a safe in his of
$100,000 in ca
told any child»
opener could c

After telling
it, but the nex:
singled him ou
bellish the -ya!
before. His fel
sistent, so O’E
do as they rec

did.

He gave the
Clutter place t
and some he
later first one,
two interested

Then one m
of November
sacre of the |
recalled the i
had evinced i
Herb Clutter’s
had done the
happens to in
cided to keep

' The heavy,

knowledge, b

and colder o

days wore or

POLICE FILES

ister and parents.

ee ott

“Hickock tried for easy riches.

POLICE FILES

five sight that greetéd their suddenly
bulging éyes braked their rush to a
dead stop. Unbelievingly their stared at
the bed. Then with shrieks of terror they
turned and fled down the stairs and out
through the front door toward Nancy’s
father’s car. Clarence Ewalt had heard
their screams and met them halfway.

“What happened, honey?” he asked,
startled by the girls’ hysteria.

“Nancy Clutter,” Susan’ sobbed,
“she’s up there on the bed all covered
ct blood.’ And her face . . . her

ace...”

“And her feet are tied,” Nancy Ewalt’

gasped.
Ewalt sensed immediately that some-

POLICE FILES

thing was very wrong and ordered ‘the
girls to go down to Mrs. Ewalt in the
car. Then he dashed up the path.

‘He was unfamiliar with the second
floor plan of the house but. when he
reached the top of the'stairs he saw the
open door and ran in. He was shocked

‘to the core by what he saw. :

Lying on top of the bed in her pa-
jamas, her .once attractive face nothing
but a bloody pulp, Nancy Clutter was
trussed legs and arms, the latter bound
behind her back.

Seeing theré was nothing he could
do, Ewalt ran downstairs to a hall closet

_ telephone and dialed Sheriff Earl Rob-

inson in Garden City. Robinson’s office

Ex-con Hickock collapsed after telling police officers what he knew about the brutal Saturday night murders.

phone didn’t respond and he called the
sheriff’s home. Robinson answered.

“You’d better get over to the Clutter
place fast, Earl,” Walt said. ‘“There’s
been murder done. Young Nancy. Her
face has been blown away by a shot-
gun blast and she’s hog-tied like a
rodeo calf.” ‘

“The Clutters!” the sheriff said.
“Come now, Clarence, who’d want to
harm little Nancy?”

“I don’t know,” Ewalt muttered, “but
I’m telling you the truth. I never saw
anything like it. And you'd better alert
Dewey, that agent for the KBI. From
what I’ve seen you'll need all the help

(Continued on page 53)

| named his killer

nowhere in quite a hur-
ef obstacle to his suc-
> inability to find‘a sus-
ted into the category his

1 fashioned. Discourag- °

Q he found that every-
‘new Ralph Jessup also
eorge couldn’t write.

stalemate was reached,
ight by some that Old
irder would become as
nystery as had been his
alth. But those who be-

neglected to consider |

ng’s resourcefulness. Af-
en and serious study in
his home the con-
orivately he perhaps
.vvs. The admission was
e of retrospect, indicat-
uddenly acquired a com-
of heart in the case.
e of heart was displayed
tack of investigation,
ntally marked the first
2cords of North Carolina
an Officer used hand
arison as an aid in soly-
. Constable Long, armed
‘ap of wrapping paper
aterrupted sentence, be-
the rounds to find simi-
iip. But he kept his pur-
He merely asked resi-
ommunity if they would
d George’s murder solvy-
e reckoned.there would
1 who wouldn’t, they all
urn they were eager to
‘ brought to justice.
put your John Henry
petition,” he told them,
ve the state send some-
‘e to help track him

ike petition he got ev-
ature in Marley’s Ford.
down to compare them
<en sentence. What he
sed him more than it
r. The belabored scrawl
ng paper unmistakably
itten by Ralph Jessup

irpose was screaming
itness. He had given
ng credit for a fair
elligence, but the con-
sed the quota. Be-
scalculation Ralph
a. *

POLICE FILES

CLUTTER FAMILY
(Continued from page 27)

you can get.” Al Dewey was, the rep-
resentative of the Kansas Bureau of In-
vestigation, the state-wide crime pre-
vention agency, stationed in Garden
City.

“T'll be right over, Clarence. Are the
rest of the Clutters okay?” Sheriff Rob-
inson asked.

“I don’t know. I called you the mo-’

ment I found Nancy,” the good neigh-
bor said. “But I intend to find out right
away.” Hanging up, he again ran up-

stairs: and began methodically going

through the bedrooms.

When he came to the third one a new
shambles greeted his eyes. Lying on the
bed, bound and gagged like her daugh-
ter, the side of Mrs. Clutter’s head had
been literally torn away by a shotgun
charge.

Ewalt, nauseated by the sight of what
had once been a kind family friend, saw
that nothing in the world could be done
for her and resumed his search. The
rest of the bedrooms on the second floor
were vacant, but he noticed that in one,
a-boy’s room, if the school pennants
and athletic equipment: were any sort
of indicators, the bed had been slept in.

’ The bed clothing was rumpled as if

tossed aside in a hurry.

He knew that there was a bedroom
on the first floor adjoining a room Herb
Clutter used as an office. He entered
it, but it, too, was empty. The bed
clothes here again showed signs of hav-
ing been .used.

He continued to enter room after
room’ and when he had covered the
ground floor without turning up , any
new gruesome discoveries, he descended
into the spacious basement. c

Here he was again horror struck.
Side by side on an outside piece of
cardboard lay the bodies of Herb Clut-

ter and his son, Kenyon. The face of-

each had been turned to hamburger by
a shotgun blast. Each was bound, legs
and arms, with the wrists caught behind
the back. The father, like his daughter
and wife, was.clad in pajamas. The boy
wore a T-shirt and blue levis, but was
barefooted. The sorrowing, angered
neighbor saw they were beyond any
ministrations except prayer.

Sobbing, Ewalt stumbled up the base-
ment steps, through the house: and out
the front door to await the sheriff. He
was trembling from’ the horror of what
he had witnessed.

” ‘
EVERAL minutes later, Sheriff Rob-
inson skidded his sedan to a
screeching halt and leaped out and ran
up to Ewalt. Behind him came Agent
Dewey of the KBI.

“They wiped out the whole family,” |

Ewalt shouted as the sheriff and. state
agent approached. “It’s a massacre,
that’s what it is, a massacre!” *

“Come on, where are they?”

“The women folk are upstairs, the
men in the basement,” Ewalt said, “but
I’m not going with you. I couldn’t
POLICE FILES

stomach any more.” He. stood by the
door his chest heaving.

Robinson and Dewey took the steps
three at a time and burst into Nancy
Clutter’s room. Their reaction was simi-
lar to that of Ewalt’s, one of revulsion
and: hammer-like. shock.

Dewey turned and left the room, say-

ing, “I’ll have to notify headquarters. |

I can see right off we'll need help on
this one. Especially technicians.” ‘
While the KBI man was telephoning
his chief, Director Logan Sanford at
Topeka, the state capital, Robinson
found Mrs. Clutter in her bedroom,
and her husband and son in the base-
ment. While he stood staring at the
father and son in what almost approach-
ed disbelief, he was rejoined by Dewey.
The KBI agent looked down at the two
pathetic forms for a moment, and then

said softly, “The chief’s flying out a |.

crew, investigators and lab boys. They
should be here in a couple of hours.”

The sheriff shook his head as though
clearing it of fog. “County Attorney
West has to know about this immedi-
ately. I’ll call him and then you and I
can get to work until your. boys arrive.
The murdering devils who did: this have
too much of a head start as it is.”

After telephoning Prosecutor Duane
West, the sheriff and the KBI man went
outside to ask Ewalt how he gained
entrance to the house.

“The two girls just walked in,” the
farmer said. “The door was open.”

The sheriff nodded. “This is un-
locked door country,” he said, “and the
Clutters were like the rest. It would be
all right, too, as far as the home folks
are concerned. But strangers do come
through. And I'll bet my office that this:
is the work of outsiders. I know about
everybody in Finney County and I can’t

‘imagine any of them doing something

like this.”

As they talked to Ewalt, Alfred
Stoecklein, Clutter’s hired man, came
trotting across the road, a worried look

.in his eyes. Stoecklein lived with his

wife and children in an tenant, house
about 500 yards from the Clutter home.

“Saw your car, sheriff,” he said.
“What’s up?”

“Hear or see anything out of the way
last night, Alf?” Robinson asked. He
knew that Stoecklein had worked an
even dozen years for Clutter and was
intensely loyal to him.

“No, not a thing,” Stoecklein said. “Is
something wrong?”

“Something’s mighty wrong, Alf,”
Robinson said softly. “Some mutdering
fiends have shotgunned the Clutter
family to death.” The hired man’s
weather-beaten face turned a deathly
white and it appeared for a moment as
if he would collapse.

“Killed the Clutters?” he echoed va-
cantly, then stood there mute, tears
rolling down his cheeks.

When he recovered, the sheriff re-
peated his question, but Stoecklein was
unable to enlighten him in any way ex-
cept to say that when they had finished
the chores shortly after dark the night
before, Herb Clutter seemed to. be his
usual unworried, amiable self. pid

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for something and he, or
.e¢ infuriated when they
” Robinson said.
rs were still raking their
ossible motive when three
ves and five technicians,
cameras and other equip-
in front of the house.
troduced his colleagues—
atz, Roy Church and Har-
| the laboratory experts to
1d prosecutor, and briefed
1 on what had gone before
preliminary investigation
dicate.
ne biggest job we’ve ever
,” Dewey said, “and it is
f the reasons we were or-
e first place.”
hen went to call the county
hat he could remove the
utopsies and personal ex-
ace the technicians had
indreds of pictures, finger-
sured the house inside and
itless hunt for leads.

wore on, Robinson’s depu- .

ce from Garden City and
ied the push. News of the
' had sped over: the coun-
tid-afternoon a crowd

ds had gathered at a

-¢ from the cluster of

‘Ss.
ne sickening calamity had
wo away-from-home Clut-
, last of -the family, and
ing west from Southwest-
ad Mount Carmel, Illinois.
, Sunday night and Mon-
the bloodhounds of the

ven neighbors and
scking and checking. Yet
perienced eyes, minds and
ection equipment brought
e€ more than Robinson,
West had found in their
half preliminary investi-

r’s housekeeper, who had
ht and Sunday off, was
2. She was unable to find
ing from the house. Close
> victims also took inven-
ed at the same conclusion.
rector Sanford appeared,
‘rom the helm of his ship
ity of the crime, he ques-
etectives and technicians
3 forced to admit to the
> pertinent advance had
the direction of the cold
Ss.

3RT FENTON, Finney
coroner, made one con-
he manhunt. In addition
n shot point-blank in the
12 gauge shotgun: loaded
he discovered that Herb
it had also been cut. The
however, had been un-
ine if he had been slashed
eing shot. This new

® unreality of the ex-

d day of the operations at
ich, one meager clue came
microscopic study, of a

POLICE FILES

ee een ee

close-up photo taken of the large piece
of cardboard (a covering for a new
mattress) on which the bodies. of the
father and the son had been found re-
vealed the print of a shoe sole with a
diamond design.

Samples of the cord used to truss the
bodies were taken to stores for miles
around but the cord was of such a
common variety that hopes for uncov-
ering its source had to be abandoned.

No enemies of the Clutters could be
found and no one in the area could re-
member having seen any ssuspiciou
strangers during the period just before
or after. the wholesale murders.

Early in December, with the case at
dead end, Director Sanford of the KBI
received a call from Kansas State Prison
at Lansing. An hour later the crime
chief was en route to the penitentiary.
Once there he was closeted in the war-
den’s office with a convict named Wil-
force O’Brien. O’Brien had once worked
in the wheat fields of Finney County.
When Sanford took his departure of the
convict he shook his hand. heartily.’

Back in Topeka, the KBI director
long distanced Agent Dewey at Gar-
den City. Dewey, first in on the investi-
gation, had been designated co-ordi-
nator of the hunt to run the mass killers
to earth.

“Al,” Sanford said, “I think, for the
first time, that we may lick the Clutter
case. This is how it is:”

The KBI chief told his agent that‘a
convict by the name of Wilforce O’Brien
had asked to see him in connection with
the Finney County murders. He had a.
conference with the con and O’Brien
informed him that a year or so ago he
had, in a moment of idle prison chatter,
mentioned that he had once worked for
a wheat king by name of Clutter out-
side Holcomb, Kansas. While so doing
he had heard that Clutter, an immensely
wealthy man, had a tin-canish sort of
a safe in his office stuffed with at least
$100,000 in cash. He said he had been
told any child with a tire iron or a can
opener could crack the safe.

After telling this story he forgot about
it, but the next day two brother felons
singled him out and asked him to em-
bellish the -yarn he had told the day
before. His fellow cons were quite in-
sistent, so O’Brien thought it best to
do as they requested and embellish he
did.

He gave them all the details of the
Clutter place that he could remember—
and some he couldn’t. Severd] months
later first one, and then another, of the
two interested felons. were paroled. |

Then one morning around the middle
of November he read about the mas-
sacre of the Clutters. Immediately he
recalled the interest the two convicts
had evinced in his hearsay story about
Herb Clutter’s safe. Then he knew who

had done the killing. Knowing what —

happens to informers in prison, he de-
cided to keep his suspicions to himself.

The heavy, cold burden of the man’s
knowledge, however, pressed heavier
and colder on his conscience as the
days wore on. The inhumanity of the

POLICE FILES

' Hickock, incidentally, had been con-

. Clutter housekeeper came to Prosecutor

. Las Vegas, taking a route through New

cold blooded executions were too much
even for him and he finally succumbed
to his better side and asked to see Direc-
tor Sanford. In exchange for anonymity
he spilled his suspicions.

“So that’s the way it is,” Sanford said,
“and it adds up. Those two cutthroats
raided Clutter’s home in the dead of the
night and when they couldn’t find his
non-existent tin can safe, or a horde of
hundred dollar bills, they wiped out the
family in raging frustration. The blood-
thirsty oafs didn’t know that Clutter
was what is known as a ‘book farmer’
and conducted all his transactions by
check.”

The crime chief said the names of
the two suspects were Richard Eugene
Hickock, 28, of Edgerton, Kansas, and
Perry Edward Smith, 31, of Elko, Ne-
vada. Both had been serving time at
Lansing: for. burglary. Hickock was
paroled August 13, 1959, Smith several
months earlier. Since their release they
had ‘violated parole, passed some bad
checks and disappeared. Currently they
were being sought for return to prison.

victed of stealing a shotgun, a weapon
for which he obviously had a fetish in
view of what one had done to the in-
nocent Clutters.

Armed with this new knowledge, an
all-out alert was sounded throughout
the United States for the two ex-cons,
and the manhunt for them in Kansas
was intensified.

Hickock and Smith, however, seemed
to have vanished. The home of Hick-
ock’s parents, a squalid farm on the
outskirts of Kansas City, Kansas, was
searched. In the cellar of the three-room
farm’ house a pair of boots with soles
of a diamond design matching that on
the cardboard in the Clutter basement
was found! This was the clincher.

HE next break didn’t come until a
few days before Christmas. The

West in Garden City and said that an
expensive mist gray portable TV radio
was missing from the Clutter home and
she couldn’t remember having seen. it
since the day of the murders.

A description of the radio was dis-
patched to. police headquarters of all
towns of any size in the U.S.A., Mexico
and Canada.

The following day Mexico City police
headquarters wired KBI that two Amer-
icans answering Hickock’s and Smith’s
descriptions had pawned a radio match-
ing the set missing from the Clutter
home. The two men, the wire said, had
been overheard discussing plans for
driving to Las Vegas, Nevada, the fol-
lowing day. If these were the men
wanted then they were somewhere on
the road to the desert gambling oasis.

Post-haste, Agent Harold ‘Nye, in on
Dewey’s Clutter case team from the be-
ginning, was put on a plane for Las
Vegas.

KBI detectives Dewey, Duntz and
Church, along with Sheriff Robinson,
piled in a car and also high-tailed it for

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Board of Consumers Co-operative of Kansas,

City, Mo.

He served as agricultural agent- of Finney
County from 1934 to 1959.

“The number of employes at his farm
varied,” a deputy told Sanford. “Sometimes
he only had a few; and other times he had
as many as a dozen . . . depending on- the
season. We're rounding up all of his former
employes now for questioning.” ;

“How about his life in the community .-.

other than his agricultural interest?” one of .

the KBI agents asked.

The local officers filled in details,

The entire family were members‘ of the
First Methodist: Church .in Garden City.

Clutter had served as chairman of the church .
building committee, and directed a construc- —

tion: program. He was a member of the
church’s’ official board, the pastoral relations
committee, a teacher of the Hearthstone Sun-
day School class for many years,’and at one
time or another he worked on most of the
church’s committees and commissions.

He was a booster of the Methodist Family
Camp staged each summer, and he -and his
family usually attended.

Mrs. Clutter helped ‘organize the Hearth-
stone Class and taught for several years in
the children’s department of the church. She
assisted in many phases of youth department
work, and was'a member of the Women’s
Society of Christian Service.

Nancy and Kenyon were active in the
Methodist Youth Fellowship, both holding
offices in the organization. Nancy had been
scheduled to conduct the lesson at that Sun-
day night’s meeting. The meeting was cancelled.

“The door was unlocked when the. girls
made the discovery?” Sanford asked. .

A deputy nodded. “Most everybody leaves
their doors unlocked around here—or did.”

“This is the goriest crime I have ever seen
in Kansas,’ Sanford said, And then he turned
to face. the barrage of reporter’s questions
about what was being done to solve it.

He told them the house: was being. gorie
over for fingerprints and other possible clues;
every person who knew the Clutters, had
business dealings or worked for them was
going to be questioned, and the entire area
was being investigated. -

As for possible motives, the officers would
not even speculate.

There was talk of a crack pot ... some-
one who had built-up a warped hatred because
of Clutter’s work with farming associations.

There was talk of someone who might-have .

held a deep grudge .. . one he never men-
tioned, .but that tormented him into this
savagery.

There was talk of robbery:as a \motive,
though there was no apparent ransacking.

“A transient burglar wouldn’t be likely. to
stop at the Clutter place,” one officer
theorized. “The main highway runs through
Holcomb. This place is about three-quarters
of a mile off the highway. Somebody passing
through, looking for a place to rob, would
be more inclined to hit a house on the main
highway . . . he wouldn’t go down sideroads
that he didn’t know anything about.”

“That’s if he were looking for just any old
place to hit,” another officer put in. “Sup-

posing it were somebody who had heard |
about Herb Clutter. Clutter was a prominent. .
man... he was always getting written up. ”
in the newspapers. Somebody who read about.

him could have figured he kept a large amount
of money in his home,”

. questioning...

Another theory was that the killings were

. done by .a hunter who happened onto the
. Clutter, farm. .The pheasant season had re-

cently opened and thousands of hunters were
roaming the. fields of western Kansas. ;

“Clutter prohibited’ hunters from hunting
on his land,” one deputy said. “Maybe one
of them overrode Clutter’s objections and ran
into an argument that got out of hand.” | -

“Nonsense,” another said. “This thing hap-

pened at night. No one. would be hunting at”

night, and besides there’s the tape and rope.”

“Unfortunately, with the pheasant season
open,” a KBI agent pointed. out, “a man carry-
ing a.shotgun isn’t conspicuous around here.”

Whatever speculating was done by the .in-
vestigators was doubled by the residents of
Finney County,.many of whom could only
stand around in: stunned groups and talk
of. nothing but the why's and who’s in the
massacre of their most prominent family.
School officials had even contemplated suspend-
ing classes for the day, since the students could
concentrate ‘on little but the picture hanging
in the hallway of the school, a picture of

‘Nancy Clutter, recently voted by. the faculty

as winner of the school’s citizenship award for
the first six weeks.

NANCY and Kenyon Clutter had attended

Holcomb school throughout all , their.
years of education. The school had-an en-.

rollment of 386 students, 87 of whom. at-

tended igh school classes, “Make that’ 85,

now,” principal’ Dave. Williams | corrected.

At the Clutter farmhouse, the family dog,
part collie and part shepherd, sat mourn-
fully by the side porch. He apparently had
set up no commotion on the murder night, but
the dog had a reputation for being gun-shy;
he would run at the sound of a-gun.

Store operators in Holcomb and Garden
City that day reported a heavy sale of locks,

_ doorbolts and door fasteners.

“They’re not particular about what brand
they buy,” one store manager said. “They

_ just want them to hold,”

That Monday night. was to have been a big”
evening. The annual Finney County 4-H.
Achievement banquet was scheduled and the.

two Clutter children were to have been

honored for achievements. The banquet was

postponed.

leads. Officials issued an appeal to the ‘pubjic
for. help in solving the. murders.:

It was announced that the cord used to
bind the victims was a nylon, loosely-woven
cord, and the knots were a combination clove-

. hitch and half-hitch. There was a published

report that these knots were the type generally
used by cowboys in stock handling, but

Sheriff Robinson said anyone might tie such —

knots.

‘The tape used to gag the victims was a
2-inch “wetproof” adhesive white tape.

Storekeepers were urged to. report any
recent sale of. such cord and. tape.

KBI Director Sanford was at the Clutter
house again that day conducting an inven-
tory of everything in the house.

“If anything is missing, we want to know

about it,” he stressed. “It may not look like .

a robbery to some people, but. it can’t be ruled
out.”

At the sheriff’s office in Garden City, several.

tips were received from’a well-meaning public.
And officers picked up a number of men for
some had police records and

some had worked for Herb Clutter.

Officers received reports that some of. the
men had been fired by Clutter. It was gen-
erally known that Clutter was a good man to
work for, but he would not tolerate drinking
on the job, —

On Tuesday the two ‘remaining members
of the family, the a daughters,
were taken to the house.

“We know this is difficult,” an officer told

.them. “But please look around carefully. See

if you notice anything out of place or if
anything is missing.”

The daughters recognized the importance
of. this assignment and covered each room

fhoroughly.

“There’s a radio missing,” one of them
said. “Ken's radio . .. a small table-model
radio.” ;

“Any chance’ that he might have gotten rid
of it?’ an officer asked. “Sold it, maybe,

‘or traded it or lent it to a friend?”

She shook her head. “He had it here last
week,” she said. “He just got. it recently.”

She gave the officers a detailed description
of the radio.

“Tf the killer took the radio, that’s the one
thing we could use to tie him to:the killings,”
a KBI man said. “If it gets into the papers
and he reads about it he'll most likely throw

it away. We'll just-keep this quiet at present.”

The information was passed on to the

other investigators. When they picked up

persons for questioning, they made a care-
ful search of the homes and examined every

.tadio.

Meanwhile ‘some officers out in the field

came across blood stains on the Arkansas
River bridge railing a quarter of a mile south
of the road that led to the Clutter home. The
stains were scraped for examination. .
" County Attorney West cautioned them’ not
to be too encouraged by this find. He pointed
out that many hunters were in the area, and
the blood could have come from game, '

It was also announced that day that KBI -

Agent. Wendell Cowan of Topeka had ar-
rived in Holcomb with a lie detector.

“Nothing for immediate use,” West said.
“We just want to have it handy.”

He ‘said the investigators still lacked evi-.
-denke to establish a motive, to determine

' in ‘whith order the victims were killed, and
The next marning: the public realized just .
how desperate the authorities were for. solid -

to determine whether the crime was: com-
mitted by person or persons locally or from
outside the area.

The Hutchinson News that day came out
with an offer of a $1000 reward for anyone
offering information which would lead to the
solution of the crime,

The next day, Wednesday, Herbert W.
Clutter, his wife and two children were
buried. Funeral services were conducted in
the First Methodist’ Church which had been
built under Clutter’s direction. The streets in
Holcomb were deserted that. day and’ every
store front carried the same sign—cLoseEp.

Reverend Leonard Cowan spoke of the

spiritual blessings he had had in his service .

with: the Clutters.

“If Christ were: to return, and pick 12
disciples from this church, I am sure Herb
Clutter would. be among the first,” he said.

The next day, the’ bloodstains on the
bridge fell through as a lead. A farmer in the
Holcomb area came forward and told ‘the

. sheriff he had butchered a hog and dumped

some of the remains from the bridge.
West announced that several other leads

had been found, however, including an empty

shotgun shell case
Clutter farm, and th
Some of the. shi
the gauge belie
thefts included
and shells from
the theft of a car cc
gun at Pratt. These
the Clutter slayings.
located abandoned :
murders. The gun w
In the sheriff’s o
detector tests were
men with crimina!
checked out and :
portable radios. A qi
at shops in the sm:

pawn shops in the 1: .

NE lead sent «

City, 35 miles
young man had been
night. After being i
appeared to be an a
he didn’t know his
where he was going

A Garden City dc
nosis in treating son
Questipned while u
revealed his name,
Kan., and the infc
soldier stationed at
also said he was a

Investigation clea)

Checking further
authorities discovere
a large life insura
just a few hours bi
tract carried a doul

County Attorney
but said the insura
linked in any way

At the end of t
vestigation, authorit

There were no de
cars or shotguns u
the fingerprints
been checked
friends and th
not been matched. }
made by any of the
to the Clutter hom

Authorities in Gr:
knife in an abanc
which appeared to
The knife was sent
Investigation labora’
other evidence in t!
analysis.

In Hoisington,
Garden City, two
when police found
revolver in their «
Wichita -for investi;
alibi that cleared th:
the Clutter slayings

Another clue ser
Hugoton, 70 miles ;
A bloody shirt wa:
US Highway 270, :
ton. It was a we
sleeves cut off. Th
Hugoton by a mec
ing it in the ditch.

Officers checked
was found, but fou

‘ was sent to the FI

This lead fell th

ported throwing th_
it to wrap a pheas

INTY'S MOST:
FAMILY WAS
BY MADMEN,
‘HEM BOUND

IN THE HEAD

PENNYPACKER

GARDEN’ CITY, KAN.,. JANUARY 7, 1960

m@ It was the Sunday School hour. in
Garden. City, Kan.,-9 o’clock on the
morning of November 15, and teenage
Nancy Ewalt rapped a little anxiously
on the door of the Herbert Clutter farm-
house.
“Nobody answers!” she ‘called out to
her parents, waiting in their car. “Maybe
they’ve gone over to pick up Susan.”

Nancy got back into the car and her
father swung it around the drive and
headed back down to the highway to-
ward the small town of Holcomb, Kan.
He parked in front of. the home of Mrs.
Wilma Kidwell, and went to the door.

“Did the Clutters come by for Susan
yet?” he asked,

Mrs. Kidwell shook her head. ‘‘Susan’s
dressed and waiting. Are you taking the
girls this morning?”

“No,” Ewalt said. “We just drove
Nancy over to the Clutter place but
nobody answered her knock. We thought
they had gone on without waiting for
us and were here. "Maybe Nancy didn’t
knock hard enough.” +

Susan Kidwell joined the Ewalts and
they started back to the Clutter farm
This time both girls knocked at the door
of the impressive farmhouse, but there
still was no response. They tried the
door. It-was unlocked and they went
inside. -

“Nancy!” one of them called out.

The large two-story house was terribly
quiet.

“Maybe her father had to go some-
place,” one of the girls suggested. ‘“Let’s
go up to her room.”

They crossed the room to the stairs
and went up to the second floor where
Nancy Mae’s room was just to. the
right of the steps.

continued on page,25

“ct

FAMILY

een shot in the head. Florida
the four were killed during
.2 of the mother.
mpared notes by phone with
Boyer of Osprey, Fla., but
the two cases. The missing
> had plenty of time to reach
the officers concluded.
cember 23, the phone rang
e of Ervin, Young’s mother.
‘ance call.
ny wife?” the voice at the
line said.
Ly.

ke into tears. “She’s worried
n too. They want you for a
in’t take it any more. You
it’s like to have a son hunted

surprised.

atter, Mom, why are you
nted to ask you to send me
been on a drunk and I don’t
I left my car. I’m broke. I
nts. I want to come back

. “Ervin Ray, you go straight

eriff’s office and give your-

*t you anyway.”

1, unable to talk any more.
didn’t know where he
ame from, she reported.
tr, Young walked into

riff James. P. Thompson at

away, in southeastern Okla-

('m wanted for a murder in
ect said. “I’m innocent. I
ire until I get back to Tulsa.”
o talk when he got back to
fered no alibi, no statement,
his two weeks’ absence.

S. Lawrence, had a dispute
Ikner when newsmen were
ograph and question the sus-
vised Young to say nothing.
cheduled to meet January 11
whether to indict him, send-
*t court for trial, or dismiss

capital offense, Young can-
mn bail. If convicted on the
e could be executed.
1 wife insisted he was inno-

to show me some proof in _

‘his wife said. “So far they

1, “I hope and pray to God
1. His life may depend on it.”
: had placed the blame for
| activities on a- polio attack
vhen he was 12.

on his prison record, Young
d home life. I had everything
»_”

:, Officers are still searching
ur, the missing gun—and the

lo, whose hunch cracked the
at the slayer is a sex maniac
‘ape the girl after either slug-
the man. He feels the killer
w the headlights of the
z. Castello believes the
arn and assault the girl,

s plans by flagging down the’

. So the slayer fled, leaving
h death. |

none astcensors Onsee

Massacre of the
Clutter Family
continued from page 25 |

gagged and shotgunned in the head. Three. .
The body of Herb W. Clutter was found
in ‘the combination furnace room and work-

’ shop. He: had been killed in the same way

as the others, but in addition his throat had
been cut.

“The . . . whole... family,” Robinson
said incredulously, “wiped out.” He was silent
a moment, too shaken by what he had seen to
speak, Then: “Call Dr. Fenton, and get every-
one from the office out here, also the police
in Garden City, the highway patrol and Al
Dewey from the Bureau of Investigation. Tell
them to grab all equipment and hurry. No
telling what we’re going to have to do.”

By noon that Sunday the yard of the
Clutter farm home was choked with official
cars and somber activity.

Three of the victims were in nightdress.
Only the boy, 15-year-old Kenyon, was in
day clothes, blue jeans and a T-shirt.

All of them’ had been shot in the head at
close-range and the slit in Herb Clutter’s
throat was found to be a deep one.

The wires to the two telephones, one in the
study and one in the kitchen, had been cut
and removed. The master bedroom on the
first floor was in disarray. Clutter’s wallet
was on the bed, and several wallet cards had
fallen half-out. There was no money in the
wallet.

In Nancy Mae’s room, officers found several
piggy banks that appeared filled with coins.
They also found an envelope that contained
a church donation and a filled-out pledge
card.

On a mantel, police found a dollar bill.

But closets and drawers appeared to be in
order and the house didn’t look ransacked.

In an office adjoining the house, police
found two shotguns and two rifles in an un-
locked closet, but examination disclosed that
none of the guns had been fired recently.

Coroner Fenton made a preliminary exami-
nation of the bodies and determined that the
shotgun blasts were the only signs of violence
on Mrs. Clutter and the children.. Neither
the mother nor her daughter had been
sexually molested.

Police Investigator Richard Rohleder took
photographs of the scene and the bodies were
then removed.

County Attorney Duane West, who had
been visiting relatives 60 miles away, arrived
early that afternoon but there was~‘fittle the
sheriff could tell him.

“We've got officers out now talking to the
nearby farmers, but nobody has reported
hearing or seeing any disturbance or strangers
around here. If we had some idea of a
motive, we might know where to start. It
doesn’t look like robbery, and there’s no
indication of sex attack.”

Reverend Leonard Cowan, pastor of the
church, was called to the scene and told what
had happened. He returned to the church,
made an announcement of the tragedy, then
left the pulpit. It would be his unpleasant duty
to telephone the other two Clutter children
and tell them they no longer_had a family.

The eldest daughter, Mrs. Eveanna Jarchow,
was living in Mount Carmel, Ill, with her hus-
band and son. The second eldest daughter,
Beverly, was in Winfield attending homecom-
ing festivities at Southwestern College.

News of the tragedy attracted such a huge
crowd that roadblocks had to be set up, but
police availed themselves of this opportunity
to question the crowd.:

Bob Rupp of Holcomb, a classmate of
Nancy Mae, said he had visited at: the Clutter
home the previous night. He left about
10:30 p.m. There were no other visitors
when he was there, and no signs of impending
trouble.

Gerald VanFleet of Garden City, who
assisted Clutter in his extensive farming opera-
tions, said he talked with Clutter on ‘the
phone about 9 p.m. Saturday. Clutter had
sounded perfectly normal.

Deputies talked with several men who had
worked for the Clutters. in one capacity or
another, and any shred of information that
looked promising was noted. No arrests.

On Monday morning, Logan H. Sanford,
agent in charge of the Kansas Bureau of
Investigation, arrived in Garden City from
Topeka, with four KBI investigators. He
listened to the sheriff’s rundown: no sign of
sexual molestation or robbery.

“Tf you rule out sex and robbery it sug-
gests a crackpot,” a deputy said.

“Tf it was a crackpot, he certainly came
well-prepared,” another deputy put in. “He
picked the right time—night, when nobody
else was around. He brought a gun, tape for
gags and cords to tie them up with. We
checked the Venetian blinds in the house.
None of the cords have been tampered with.
So the killer brought his own.”

“And you say nobody heard the shots?”

“Nobody so far. From the looks of the
beds in the house, it appears the killer came
shortly after the family had retired. Clutter,
his wife and daughter were dressed for bed.
The boy had blue jeans on, but was bare-
footed. We were told he slept in his shorts,

without pajamas. He might have hurriedly

put on the jeans.
“The beds were mussed up, but they didn’t
appear to have been slept in a full night.”
Sanford paced the sheriff’s office. “I’ve heard
of. Herb Clutter,” he said. “One of the best
known wheat men in the state.’

T wasn’t surprising that Sanford knew of

Clutter. The 48-year-old victim was born, in
Ingalls, about 30 miles east of-his home near
Holcomb. He had been active in agricultural
circles in. western Kansas for many years. He
had been a county agent before going into
farming on a large scale-in about 1940. He
owned 960 acres of wheat land and leased
additional’ acreage. His farm was devoted
chiefly to wheat and livestock.

He was the first president of the Kansas
Association of Wheat Growers, and was given
much of the credit for the organization’s for-
mation. He was a former president of the
(Natiorial Association of Wheat Growers.

In 1953, President Eisenhower appointed
him to serve on the Federal Farm Credit
Board, made up of 12 members from the
federal land grant districts over the nation. He
was reappointed for a second term in 1957,
but declined the nomination.

At the time of his death, he was serving as
president of the board of the directors
of the Garden City Co-operative Equity
Exchange, and also was a member of the

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sr Grand Rapids,
in 1946 of the
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The death of the
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| to death by Chi-
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he shot Stone
couldn’t stand a
»t To Cool Down,
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dge he’d made not
life, but to stand
to death. Wither-
f stoicism last Oc-
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r beg for your life,
id than away from

walk here alone,
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vith her each night

' your life’s ebbing

ear-old dope addict
led while trying to
vunty, Ind., General
t tragic chapter to

' The Hophead

960) by taking
___i hanged in her
ormatory for Wom-
She had served less

than a month of a ten-year term for vio-
lation of the Federal Narcotics Control
Act, and her death came only a few hours
after Federal District Judge Carl Hatch,
at Albuquerque, N.M., granted her a hear-
ing to seek a new trial. The former Dallas,
Tex., legal secretary had admitted accom-
panying her 26-year-old husband, Donald
F. Smith, on at least 16 Indianapolis, Ind.,
burglaries to finance their $100-a-day dope
addiction.

Rocky Lupigo has been found guilty of
the kidnaping of Tony DeVito, whose fate
was finally ascertained when a hood con-
fessed to police that J Know Where The
Body’s Buried (September FRONT PAGE,
1958). Lupino’s conviction carries a sen-
tence of up to 40 years, but because of
Lupino’s prior felony convictions, he faces
a maximum prison sentence of 80 years.
The jury determined Lupino was involved:
in the disappearance. of DeVito, a young
St. Paul, Minn., hoodlum, in 1953. The
state contended Lupino, along with several .
other men, kidnaped and killed DeVito be-
cause the latter had confessed to a South
Carolina safe burglary and implicated the
others.

Leroy (Sprout) Young, Rattlesnake
Daddy—The Beast Of The- Dance Halls
(May FRONT PAGE, 1960) who preyed on
17-year-old Joanna Huffstetler, raping and
murdering her when she resisted him, has
been sentenced to 99 years by a Knoxville,
Tenn., jury of 12 family men. Sprout, 37,
shocked at the sentence, slumped forward
and a vacant stare spread over his face as
Judge J. Fred Bibb commended the jurors
for their “well warranted” decision and
said the husky ex-convict would not be
eligible for parole until half the term had
been served. Young’s only hope for earlier
freedom—freedom before he reaches the
age of 87, in the year 2009—lay in an ap-
peal to the State Supreme Court. However,
Young’s counsel, it was learned, probably
would forego an appeal, to avoid the risk
of the death penalty in any new trial.

Luis Rosario and Rafael Rios have been
found guilty, but the jury could not agree
on a verdict for a third defendant, Raul
Alicia, who also had been charged in the.
hold-up murder .of 65-year-old _ Phillip
Schickler. The elderly New Yorker, re-
spected by his entire lower East Side com-
munity for his charity to the indigent, ran
a basement luncheonette that yielded only
$75 to the thugs who beat him to death.
The General Sessions jury deliberated
four days, finally recommending life im-
prisonment for Rios, but no such recom-
mendation for Rosario. (The Neighbor--”
hood That Lost Its Heart, December
FRONT PAGE, 1959.)

Alvin Knight’s trial for the murder of
Brighton, Mich., Trooper Albert Souden
ended dramatically when the ex-convict
changed his plea from innocent to guilty of
second degree murder, His attorney seemed
flabbergasted as the change in plea was
announced, and Judge Michael Garland im-
mediately sentenced Knight to “not less
than 18, nor more than 25 years” in Jack-
son Prison. Knight has spent all but 23
months of the last 30 years in jail. (J

allele

Know He’s Dead, But Where Is He? De-
cember--FRONT PAGE, 1959)

Richard Eugene Hickock and Perry Ed-
ward Smith, sentenced to death for the
Massacre Of The Clutter Family (April
FRONT PAGE, 1960), netted only $50 in
‘cash, a pair-of binoculars and a portable
radio from their ruthless crime . . . not
nearly as good as the man who provided
police with the tip. that led to Sthith and
Hickock’s arrest: the tipster was given a

$1000 check by the Hutchinson, Kan., .

News; the presentation was made in the
recipient’s cell, where he was still serving
out his sentence. The informant, who had
once worked as:a hand on the Clutter
farm, had been in prison at Lansing when
Smith and Hickock were inmates there. It
was his mention of a safe in the Clutter
home which triggered the massacre. There
was, incidentally, no such safe.

Dennis Whitney, the 17-year-old who de-
cided J’d Rather Kill Than Work (June
FRONT PAGE, 1960), and did’so, according
to his confession, by murdering seven

DENNIS WHITNEY
$500 and 7 deaths later.

times, escaped the electric chair when a

‘West Palm Beach, Fla., jury recommended

mercy after convicting him of first-degree
murder for the slaying of Mrs. Virginia
Selby; 62. The three-day trial ended on a
dramatic note when a telephoned bomb re-
port caused a 25-minute evacuation of the
county courthouse. Whitney’s 42-day rob-
bery. spree, which resulted in the deaths of
a number of gas station attendants, netted
him less than $500; he has been sentencéd
to a mandatory life term.

Edward Gein, the Butcher of Plainfield,
(March FRONT PAGE, 1958), who was com-
mitted to a Wisconsin state hospital for
the insane, possibly had corroborated for
him a part of his macabre story of murder
and cannibalism with the finding of a pile
of half-rotted human bones at the site
where his barn used to be. Police said the
bones might be the remains of Mary Ho-
gan, an innkeeper Gein admitted killing
but whose body has never been found.
Mary Hogan was Gein’s second victim.
The first was Mrs. Bernice Worden, a
storekeeper whose death led.to the dis-
covery in 1957 of Gein’s eerie penchant for
murder, cannibalism and grave robbing.

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(Continued from page 77)

Deputies soon established that the man
had been a patient at the Topeka State
Hospital. Hospital reports showed he was re-
leased in.1957 with a recommendation that
he be given further mental treatment. It was
determined, however, that on the night of the
murders the man had been in Wichita.

The probe went on.

Residents of Finney County waited, and
wondered if the horrible murders would go
unsolved . .. that if in years to come the
massacre would still remain a bloody mystery.

(THEN on New Year’s Day a most unsatisfy-

ing news report indicated that something
big was afoot—but what? The report was that
Kansas authorities were enroute to Las
Vegas, Nev., to question two men. The men
were identified as Perry Edward Smith, 31,
of Elko, Nev., and Richard Eugene Hickock,
28, of Edgerton, Kan. The pair had been ar-
rested December 30 in the 400 block of South
Main Street in Las Vegas in a car that. had
been stolen in Oregon. At first it appeared a
routine car theft case. Why, then, were Kansas
officials called in?

Newsmen pressed for details. They were

told only that Smith and Hickock were being
held for Kansas authorities. for parole. viola-
tion, and more details would come after
they were questioned by Kansas police.

Criminal records were obtained. They
showed that Hitchcock was sentenced to a
5-year burglary term from Johnson County,
Kan., on March 15, 1958. He served almost
11 months and was paroled. Since his parole,
he reportedly had been arrested four times,
and a bad check charge was filed against him
in December based on checks ‘passed in John-
son County and Kansas City, Kan.

Smith was sentenced to the Kansas State
Penitentiary from Phillips County on March
13, 1956 to a term of 5-10 years for second de-
gree burglary. He had three terms against
him, but the sentences ran concurrently. He
served about three years and four months,
and was then paroled. The record shows he
told the parole board he would return to
Nevada and join his father. Smith said he
planned to move to Alaska.

Since their release from prison, the pair
had been suspected of traveling together and
leaving a wake of hot checks.

There was no official announcement about
what led officers to tag Hickock and Smith
as suspects in the Clutter case. But everyone
knew that was what they were being ques-
tioned about.

What nobody knew was that Smith and
Hickock had been the Number 1 suspects for
over a month.

The KBI’s search for Smith and Hickock
had been triggered by a tip, one of the most
fantastic and improbable of the 400 or so
leads the KBI received during the course of the
investigation. At first officers regarded as just
another wild goose chase. the deliberate, plod-
ding policework they routinely began after
KBI Director Sanford received a call from a
former Clutter employe . . . who, incidentally,
had been a prison mate of Hickock and Smith

. . and, incidentally, had told Hickock and
Smith an erroneous story about a large
amount of money Clutter kept in his safe.

Routinely, officers went to the home of
Hickock’s parents near Edgerton, Kan. Rou-
tinely they noted that Hickock had bought a
pair of boots a short time before. Routinely,
officers got a matching pair from the store.

“

In: a short time, their. investigation was
astonishingly ‘out of the realm of routine: the
pattern of the sole of the matching boot was
the same as the bootprint found at the scene
of the massacre, bootprints that had been
inked by Clutter’s blood. ,

Questioning Hickock’s parents’ again, of-
ficers learned that their son and his friend
Smith had left Hickock’s home together about
noon on the day ‘before the murders, saying
they were going to visit Smith’s sister and
to pick up some $2500 Smith had waiting for
him at the post office. -

But the Fort Scott post office is closed Sat-
urdays, and Smith had no sister there! “It
appeared,” Sanford was convinced,. “that they
were trying to set up an alibi and provide an
explanation for the money’ they expected .to
obtain in the. Clutter home.” ‘

And that was why, a month later, on New
Year’s Day, Kansas officials had been called in
on a “routine car theft case” in Las Vegas, Nev.,
that involved Smith and Hickock. _

On January 3, KBI agents and Finney
County authorities emerged from a room at
the Las Vegas police station and announced,
“Hickock has just confessed.”

His confession was sobbed out in dramatic
outbursts and -implicated both himself and
Smith, it was said.

KBI agent Al Dewey quoted Hickock as
saying he and Smith went to the Clutter

home with the idea of looting a home safe. .

Dewey quoted Hickock as sdying they ar-
rived at the house between midnight and 1
“aM. and entered through an unlocked door.
“We found Clutter asleep in a downstairs
bedroom. We got him up, and aimed a
shotgun at him, and ordered him upstairs,
where the rest of the family was sleeping.”
They got the rest of the household up,
and ordered them all into a large bathroom
on the second. floor where they locked them
up while he and Smith searched the house.
During the search, which lasted about, 30
minutes, they cut the telephone wires. No
safe or large amount of money was found,
and the intruders returned to the bathroom.
Hickock said they took the Clutters to
Mrs. Clutter’s bedroom, where Mrs, Clutter
was bound in bed. The members of the family
protested this, and kept insisting. there was
no money in the house,

Next, according to Hickock’s account, they
bound Nancy Mae Clutter in her bed, then
ordered father and son to the basement.

Here, the confession went on, more threats
were made and Kenyon was then taken into

,another room. He was the first to be mur-
dered, shot in the head.

Then came Clutter. His throat was cut and
he was shot in the head, \

Hickock said they then went upstairs, shot
Mrs. Clutter and the daughter, and then fled
from the home. ‘

Dewey said Hickock did not say. who .ac-
tually fired the shots or cut Clutter’s throat.
But the entire confession was taken down on
a tape recorder and played back to Smith.
Smith refused to make a statement.

“Hickock said they killed the Clutters be-

cause they didn’t want any witnesses,” a
KBI agent told newsmen.

Reporters were not permitted to question
the suspects, or listen to a replay of the
recorded statement.

Back in Garden City, first degree murder
charges were filed against Hickock and Smith.
Each was charged with four murder counts,

Sanford announced additional information

about the investigation that ‘tended to back
up Hickock’s confession.

He ‘said Hickock admitted they took a
portable radio from the Clutter house, a
blue and gray Zenith model, that he pawned
in Mexico City. Agent Harold Nye was to fly
to Mexico City to try to recover it.

Hickock told the agents where the shotgun
shells were buried, and a search was underway
to locate them.

Police also announced that a 12-gauge shot-
gun and a knife had been found in the garage
at the home of Hickock’s parents near Edger-
ton. Hickock’s father reportedly said his son
purchased the gun at Paola, Kan., for the
pheasant season, but that he, the father, had

to take over payments when his son: failed:

to, keep them up. The father said he did not
ink either the gun or knife had ever been
taken away from the home area.

Reporters and photographers were waiting
when Hickock and Smith were brought out.

Hickock, a slender youth, collapsed in
the arms of two officers as pictures were
taken; he was soon revived,

Back in Topeka, Don E. Winterburg, deputy
director for the state board of probation and
parole, said the paroles of Hickock and
Smith were handled “in routine fashion.”

Each had been granted a parole under the
plan of scheduled eligibility, after each had
served minimum terms. .

At 4 p.a. on Monday, January 4, the sus-
pects, their hands handcuffed in front of
them and guarded by. Sheriff. Robertson and
four KBI agents, were taken out of the Las

‘Vegas jail and placed in separate cars for
.the 1020-mile trip back to Garden City.

As they started off, a report was received
that the missing Clutter radio had been found
in Mexico. No Kansas officers would confirm
this report, but it was reported at the same
time that a 1949 Chevrolet owned by Hickock
and believed to have been used the night of
the murders was also found in Mexico City.

ON January 5, whilé the two-car motorcade
with its cargo of suspected mass killers was
still enroute to Garden City, Agent Sanford
received a phone call from Agent Dewey,
who, with Agent Clarence Duntz was accom-
panying the still uncommunicative Smith on
the ‘return trip.

“Smith has: just admitted. his participation,”
Dewey said. “We don’t have it in writing
but we'll be there late Wednesday night or
early Thursday morning. He'll sign a state-
ment then.” ;

Four counts of first degree murder were
filed in Finney County court against Hickock
and Smith and authorities said they had more
than a sufficient case against the two ex-
convicts. The county attorney added that he
would seek the death penalty.

The community of 13,000 persons on the
high western Kansas wheat plain felt relief

- at the capture, and pride in the men who had

accomplished it, but it didn’t lessen their
grief at the loss the tragedy had wreaked
and it didn’t calm fears that since November
16 have gripped the once peaceful area.

Women still do not walk home alone from
night movies and doors are locked through-
out the neighborhood. “Since that thing hap-
pened at Herb Clutters’, we lock up and I
guess we always will,” one man said.

The postmistress at Holcomb was even
more specific. “Plenty of folks are keeping
guns in their homes. Neighbors of the Clutters
will be jumpy for years.” |

riginally that an
isband, but later
iton to kill him.
lant at the trial,
grounds of in-
ed A Rat, June

»r Grand Rapids,
in 1946 of the
ghter seven years
lpit, May FRONT
cer at his home;
nmuted last De-
irs said Siple had
The death of the
is Originally at-
»s, but the body
e sent a church
chocolates. The
his daughter

that “in the

g, but it was

has been found
iceman Mitchell
{| to death by Chi-
.. Salter. The 36-
) had the words
across his hands,
dred at him as he
in and “I tensed
an officer, quoted

he shot Stone
couldn’t stand a
»t To Cool Down,
)), His remark re-
se, to the fact that
uigan for robbery,
ay checks. The ex-
dge he’d made not
life, but to stand
to death. Wither-
of stoicism last Oc-
n from jail to his

ic beg for your life,
ad than away from

walk here alone,
ind high walls of

with her each night

y your life’s ebbing

‘ear-old dope addict
led while trying to
yunty, Ind., General
st tragic chapter to
' The Hophead
.960) by taking
j hanged in her
ormatory for Wom-
She had served less

than a month of a ten-year term for vio-
lation of the Federal Narcotics Control
Act, and her death came only a few hours
after Federal District Judge Carl Hatch,
at Albuquerque, N.M., granted her a hear-
ing to.seek a new trial. The former Dallas,
Tex., legal secretary had admitted accom-
panying her 26-year-old husband, Donald
F. Smith, on at least 16 Indianapolis, Ind.,
burglaries to finance their $100-a-day dope
addiction.

Rocky Eupino has been found guilty of
the kidnaping of Tony DeVito, whose fate
was finally ascertained when a hood con-
fessed to police that J Know Where The
Body’s Buried (September FRONT PAGE,
1958). Lupino’s conviction carries a sen-
tence of up to 40 years, but because of
Lupino’s prior felony convictions, he faces
a maximum prison sentence of 80 years.
The jury determined Lupino was involved:
in the disappearance: of DeVito, a young
St. Paul, Minn., hoodlum, in 1953. .The
state contended Lupino, along with several
other men, kidnaped and killed DeVito be-
cause ‘the latter had confessed to a South
Carolina safe burglary and implicated the
others.

Leroy (Sprout) Young, Ratilesnake
Daddy—The Beast Of The- Dance Halls
(May FRONT PAGE, 1960) who preyed on
17-year-old Joanna Huffstetler, raping and
murdering her when she resisted him, has
been sentenced to 99 years by a Knoxville,
Tenn., jury of 12 family men. Sprout, 37,
shocked at the sentence, slumped forward
and a vacant stare spread over his face as
Judge J. Fred Bibb commended the jurors
for their “well warranted” decision and
said the husky ex-convict would not be
eligible for parole until half the term had
been served. Young’s only hope for earlier
freedom—freedom before he reaches the
age of 87, in the year 2009—lay in an ap-
peal to the State Supreme Court. However,
Young’s ‘counsel, it was learned, probably
would forego an appeal, to avoid the risk
of the death penalty in any new trial.

Luis Rosario and Rafael Rios have been
found guilty, but the jury could not agree
on a verdict for a third defendant, Raul
Alicia, who also had been charged in the
hold-up murder of 65-year-old Phillip
Schickler. The elderly New Yorker, re-
spected by his entire lower East Side com-
munity for his charity to the indigent, ran
a basement luncheonette that yielded only
$75 to the thugs who beat him to death.
The General Sessions jury deliberated
four days, finally recommending life im-
prisonment for Rios, but no such reconi-
mendation for Rosario. (The Neighbor-”
hood That Lost Its Heart, December
FRONT PAGE, 1959.)

Alvin Knight’s trial for the murder of
Brighton, Mich., Trooper Albert Souden
ended dramatically when the ex-convict
changed his plea from innocent to guilty of
second degree murder. His attorney seemed
flabbergasted as the change in plea was
announced, and Judge Michael Garland im-
mediately sentenced Knight to “not less
than 18, nor more than 25 years” in Jack-
son Prison. Knight has spent all but 23
months of the last 30 years in jail. (J

Know He’s Dead, But Where Is He? De-
cember--FRONT PAGE, 1959) ;

Richard Eugene Hickock and Perry Ed-
ward Smith, sentenced to death for the
Massacre Of The Clutter Family (April
FRONT PAGE, 1960), netted only $50 in
‘cash; a pair-of binoculars and a portable
radio from their ruthless crime . . . not
nearly as good as the man who provided
police with the tip, that led to Sthith and
Hickock’s arrest: the tipster was given a

$1000 check by the Hutchinson, Kan.,.

News; the presentation was made in the
recipient’s cell, where he was ‘still serving
out his sentence. The informant, who had
once worked as:a hand on the Clutter
farm, had been in prison at Lansing when
Smith and Hickock were inmates there. It
was his mention of a safe in the Clutter
home which triggered the massacre. There
was, incidentally, no such safe.

Dennis Whitney, the 17-year-old who de-

. cided J’d Rather Kill Than Work (June

FRONT PAGE, 1960), and did’so, according
to his confession, by murdering seven

Wea

DENNIS WHITNEY
$500 and 7 deaths later.

times, escaped the electric chair when a

“West Palm Beach, Fla., jury recommended

mercy after convicting him of first-degree
murder for the slaying of Mrs. Virginia
Selby, 62. The three-day trial ended on a
dramatic note when a telephoned bomb re-
port caused a 25-minute evacuation of the

county courthouse. Whitney’s 42-day rob- |

bery. spree, which resulted in the deaths of
a number of gas station attendants, netted
him less than $500; he has been sentenced
to a mandatory life term.

Edward Gein, the Butcher of Plainfield,
(March FRonT PAGE, 1958), who was com-
mitted to a Wisconsin state hospital for
the insane, possibly had corroborated for
him a part of his macabre story of murder
and cannibalism with the finding of a pile
of half-rotted human bones at the site
where his barn used to be. Police said the
bones might be the remains of Mary Ho-
gan, an innkeeper Gein admitted killing
but whose body has never been found.
Mary Hogan was Gein’s’ second victim.
The first was Mrs. Bernice Worden, a
storekeeper whose death led.to the dis-
covery in 1957 of Gein’s eerie penchant for
murder, cannibalism and grave robbing.

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STATE

eee ee ee ee ee

Glens / FOO

+ for Herb Clutter.
reports that: some of. the
2d by Clutter. It was gen-
Clutter was a good man to
would not tolerate drinking

e two remaining members
1e grief-stricken daughters,
house.

is difficult,” an officer told
look around carefully. See
ything out of place or if
recognized the importance
t and covered each room

io missing,” one of them
>»... @ small table-model

it he might have gotten rid
¢ asked. “Sold it, maybe,
t it to a friend?”

nead. “He had it here last
‘He just got. it recently.”
ficers a detailed description

2k the radio, that’s the one
: to tie him to:the killings,”
“Tf it gets into the papers

he'll most likely throw

) this quiet at present.”

a was passed on to the
s. When they picked up

oning, they made a care-
homes and examined every

2 officers out in the field
d stains on the Arkansas
g a quarter of a mile south
‘d to the Clutter home. The
d for examination.

y West cautioned them not
ced by this find. He pointed
nters were in the area, and
ive come from game.
ounced that day that KBI
owan of Topeka had ar-
with a lie detector.
nmediate use,” West said.
have it handy.”
vestigators still lacked evi-
1 a motive, to determine
e victims were killed, and
ther the crime was: com-
or persons locally or from

News that day came out
1 $1000 reward for anyone
n which would lead to the
ne.

Wednesday, Herbert W.

and two children were
. ervices were conducted in
st Church which had been
’s direction. The streets in
serted that. day and every
| the same sign—ctosep.
ird Cowan spoke of the

he had had in his service .

: to return, and pick 12

: ehurch, I am sure Herb

ag the first,” he said.

: bloodstains on the

es a lead. A farmer in the

me forward and told the

chered a hog and dumped
is from the bridge.

«| that several other leads

owever, including an empty

Clutter farm, and the reports of several thefts.
Some of the. shell cases were 12-gauge,
the gauge believed used on the Clutters, The

thefts included that of a 12-gauge shotgun’

and shells from a house in Dodge City, and
the theft of a car containing a 12-gauge shot-
gun at Pratt. These thefts had occurred before
the Clutter slayings. The Pratt car had been
located abandoned at Pampa, Tex., after the
murders. The gun was missing.

In the sheriff’s office at Garden City, lie
detector tests were given to farmhands and
men with criminal records.’ Alibis were
checked out and searches were made: for
portable radios. A quiet radio check was made
at shops in the small Kansas towns, and at
pawn shops in the larger cities.

OE lead sent officers hurrying to Scott

City, 35. miles north of Garden City. A
young man had been picked up there on Sunday
night. After being in jail for three days, he
appeared to be an amnesia victim. He claimed
he didn’t know his name, where he lived or
where he was going.

A Garden City doctor, who employed hyp-
nosis in treating some patients, examined him.
Questipned while under hypnosis, the. man
revealed his name, an address in Lyberal,
Kan., and the information that he was a
soldier stationed at Fort Carson, Colo. He
also said he was absent without leave.

Investigation cleared him’ as a suspect.

Checking further into Clutter’s business,
authorities discovered that he had purchased
a large life insurance policy .on Saturday,
just a few hours before his death. The con-
tract carried a double-indemnity clause.

County Attorney West termed this “ironic,”
but said the insurance policy had not been
linked in any way with the murders.

At the end of the first week of the in-
vestigation, authorities still had no leads.

There were no developments on the stolen

shotgun shell case in the vicinity of the

cars or shotguns under investigation. All of -

the fingerprints found in the Clutter house had
been checked against those of family and
friends and there were nine.prints that had
not been matched. But these could have been
made by any of the various visitors who came
to the Clutter home.

Authorities in Great Bend found a hunting
knife in an abandoned car, the blade of
which appeared to be spotted -with blood.
The knife was sent to the Federal Bureau of
Investigation laboratory in Washington, where
other evidence in the case had been sent for
analysis, ‘

In Hoisington, 110 miles northeast of
Garden City, two laborers. were arrested
when police found a loaded shotgun and
revolver in their car. They were taken to
Wichita -for investigation, but established an
alibi that cleared them of any connection with
the Clutter slayings.

Another clue sent KBI men rushing to
Hugoton, 70 miles southeast of Garden City.

A bloody shirt was found in a ditch along.

US Highway 270, 5% miles north of Hugo-
ton. It was a western-style shirt with the
sleeves cut’ off. The ‘shirt was brought into

Hugoton by a mechanic, who reported find-.

ing it in the ditch.
Officers checked the area where the’ shirt
was found, but found nothing else. The shirt

' was sent to the FBI laboratory.

This lead fell through when a farmer re-
ported throwing the shirt- away after using
it to wrap a pheasant.

As the leads continued to peter out, and
no progress was apparent in the investigation,

. the large number of. out-of-town newsmen

began to leave “the Garden City area. By

‘November ,20, five days’ after the bodies were
.found, they. were all ‘gone. ;
On Sunday, November 22, Reverend Cowan

read a. letter from the pulpit that urged for-
giveness—not revenge—from the community.
The letter was from Howard Fox of Oregon,
Tll., a brother of Mrs. Clutter. It read:

“Upon awaking early this morning and
reviewing ‘the past week’s events in my mind,
I found a peace of heart that I had not had
since the tragedy of a week ago. Certainly
this is a deed that is difficult to understand.
As Reverend ‘Cowan said, ‘It was not God’s
will, but man’s intervention.’

“There is much resentment in this com-
munity. I have even heard on more 'than one

occasion that the man, when found, should

be hanged from the nearest tree. Let us not
feel this way. The deed is done and taking
another life cannot change it. Instead let us
forgive as God would have us do.

“It is not right that we should hold a
grudge in our hearts, The doer of this act is

‘going to find it’ very difficult indeed to live

with himself. His only peace of mind will
be when he goes to God for forgiveness. Let
us not stand in the way, but instead give
prayers that he may find his peace.”
Director Sanford had to return to Wichita
and KBI Agent Dewey was named coordi-
nator. of the investigation. “The investigation

‘has not let up,” Dewey assured the people

of Finney County. “And it won’t stop until
this case is solved. Even if I have to make a
career of it,” he added with a grim smile.

Thanksgiving came, but it was no holiday
for the investigators. Out at the Clutter
farmhouse, officers still worked.

Another week passed without any sig-
nificant developments made public in the
Clutter case. Then the investigators turned
their attention to Walters, a small town in
southern Oklahoma. In Walters, the bodies
of Mr. and Mrs. George Grimes, both in their
early 50s, were found in their farm home.
Each had been‘shot in the chest with a rifle.
The phone had been ripped from the wall.
There were no signs of a struggle and no evi-
dence of robbery. Kansas police investigated
for a possible connection \between the Grimes
slayings and the Clutter case. They failed to
find any.

oN December 10, there was a alee bt

excitement as deputies arrested a man who
had entered the Clutter home. The man was
carrying a ..38 caliber revolver under his
coat in a snap-on belt holster. In his car,
parked near the house, deputies found a 12-
gauge shotgun, a hunting knife and a 30
caliber rifle.
“What are you doing here?” a deputy

asked, after the man had been disatmed.

“J. was just curious,” was all he would say.

He was taken to the sheriff’s office, where he
was identified as a 36-year-old Wichita man.
He said he entered the locked house by lifting
the lid from the water well along the north
side of the house, and crawling through the
pipe’ tunnel into the basement.

The man said he was on his way to Santa
Fe, N.M., and had not known the Clutters.
He said ‘he:never had lived in Finney County.

A burglary charge was placed against him
to hold him in jail while he was investigated.

(Continued on page 80).

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Kathryn Andie declared a couple of
years ago that “The truth will win out” on
The Day The FBI Came For.Me (Sep-
tember FRONT PAGE, 1958) to arrest the
young Birmingham, Ala., housewife for
pulling two bank robberies. Her confidence
then was justified: she was acquitted by

KATHRYN ANDERSON
"lt needed the money."

the jury that tried her. However, she’s not
protesting innocence of the charge that has
just been lodged against her of forging a
signature on a $500 check. She’d. been
forced to trace the signature, she at first
declared, and forced to cash the check by a

man who held a pistol at the head of her.

35-year-old daughter. She later admitted
this story was a hoax with the simple -ex-
planation that “I needed the money.” She
waived preliminary hearings on the forgery
charge, indicating she would plead guilty:
“There doesn’t seem to be much else I
can do.” As far as her husband was con-
cerned, this was the last straw. He got a
divorce. Seems the forged check was one
oraes by the insurance firm for: which he
works. ...

Richard Shirk has been sentenced to
life in prison for killing Carlo Vitale (The

Finding Of Carlo Vitale, May FRONT PAGE, |

1960). The sentence was imposed by Oak-
land County Near Circuit Judge Stan-
ton G. Dondero. Shirk originally stood
trial with Gerald McKay for the murder.
However, during the trial, McKay pleaded
guilty to second-degree murder, and was

SRD eI specs ase eee
Ba Re

sentenced to 15 to 30 years in prison.
Shirk was found guilty in the first degree.
Shirk, McKay and Vitale were metnbers of
a holdup gang specializing in supermar-

kets and credit unions. Vitale was killed

when Shirk and McKay found that police
were on Vitale’s trail; his cohorts had been
afraid Vitale would talk and implicate them.

Nick Goodman, convicted of murder-
ing casino owner William Duffin, has béen
sentenced to ten years to life in prison. A
jury found Goodman guilty of second-de-
gree murder for shooting Duffin on a Car-
son City, Nev., street, despite the defense
attorney’s plea that Goodman was men-
tally disturbed and should not be held re-
sponsible for the shooting. The district
attorney charged Goodman deliberately
gunned down Duffin because of a grudge
over -state charges that Goodman cheated
at a casino gambling game and cost Duffin
his license. (Cold Decked, April Front
PAGE, 1960.)

Perry Edward Smith, sentenced to hang
for the Massacre Of The Clutter Family
(April FRONT PAGE, 1960), decided he’d

rather starve to death. So Warden Tracy:

Hand, determined to “make sure that he
is alive when his execution date comes,”
transferred Smith to the Kansas State
Penitentiary infirmary and ordered that
Smith be fed intravenously. “The word we
got through the grapevine,” Hand revealed,
“was that Smith told other death row in-
mates, ‘You guys can wait for the rope,
but I’m going to beat it.’” At last reports,

. Smith was regaining some of the 14 pounds

he’d lost on his hunger strike and was re-
puted to be more than willing to forego the
intravenous bit and “begin eating again,”
according to the warden. Smith and Rich-
ard Hickock had been sentenced to death
for the shotgun slayings of Herbert Clut-
ter, his wife and their two teenaged
children. The -Clutters were killed when
the two murderers entered the family’s
farmhouse looking for a safe containing a
large amount of money, There was no
such safe.

San Quentin was having its food prob-
lems too: the 17 men in the California
prison’s death row went on a hunger strike
as a protest against the food not being
quite up to par—it’s cold, the vegetables
watery and the desserts monotonous, ran
the complaints. The murderers. specified
that they wanted more steaks, and they’d
like tamale pie, creamed beef, corn bread,
fried hominy and rice. Surprisingly, Warden
Fred Dickson conceded four days: after. the
hunger strike began that there was some
justification for the complaints of the men
whose Addréss is Death Row (July FRONT
PAGE, 1960).

FRONT PAGE DETECTIVE,

October, 1960

John Junior James, known as the “mean-
est man in Texas,” according to Waco’s

. Sheriff C. C. Maxey, and nicknamed Jesse

James during his violent and vicious crimi-
nal career, joined his baby brother Loyal
James in the hands of Texas authorities for
the murder of John M. Blackford during a
supermarket holdup. John James was cap-
tured in Los Angeles, Cal., during a rob-
bery attempt on a Western Union office.
He waived extradition and was returned
to Texas ‘to face the more serious charge
of murder. His younger brother, captured
last February after shooting a bartender in
a Truman, Ark., tavern, is now serving a 99-
year term at Huntsville, Tex., State Prison
for the Blackford slaying. The Waco kill-
ing had culminated a crime spree by the
two brothers which terrorized Texas, Mis-
souri, Arkansas, and Louisiana. The FBI
said the older brother’s criminal career be-
gan in Arkansas when he was 16 and, like
his notorious namesake, he is described as
a trigger-quick desperado who had boasted
he would never be taken alive.

Dennis Whitney, confessed killer of
seven who decided /’d Rather Kill Than
Work (June FRONT PAGE, 1960) might not
have reconsidered even had he known he
was also deciding he’d rather die than live—

that he would be sentenced to death in the:
electric chair for the murder of Miami, |

DENNIS WHITNEY
Youngest white to face Florida's chair.

. Fla.,. gas station attendant Arthur Keeler,
the specific murder for which he was tried

in the second first-degree murder trial
against the 17-year-old North Hollywood,
Cal., boy. The month before, in a trial
at West Palm Beach, Fla., Whitney was
convicted of killing a 62-year-old grand-
mother, Mrs. Virginia Selby, whose car he

had comma
mended mer
such recomn
ing to a signe
he had kille:
Florida and t
fornia. Whitr
for the defen
he was _ hearc
damn.” Then
ance, Whitne
erished chil
father and a
give the mon
since I was e
the house. M
vulgar and \
Sometimes he
the house. (
and burned h
total of Denr

Hilary Thc
County (Miss
out to engine
crusading She:
tenced to lif
triggerman W
key witness, |
promised him
ness in-the coi
hill’s defense ;
examining Mc‘
admit he had
attorney and t
receive a life
—in exchange
got life, but it
torted. “I kne:

- guilty.” In his

before the jur
Michael Lawle

is on trial, E
good citizens t

cision is yours

ute less than a1
Defense Attor
tioned for a mi
He subsequent

an appeal to th
sentenced to li
the Columbia,

clared an all-o
moonshiners we
Thornhill, who
plan the shotgu
son, who plead
der, was senten
Police charged }
assassinate the

out and was not
ing. Shirley Le.
was sentenced

penitentiary, bu
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had been tried
question of W
Death? (Augu
Marion County
learn that the c
complete: a sev:
a cousin of co
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accused of hel;
which was used
slay-for-pay killi
at his home in t
miles southwest

no |

; Ming at ees
re toma isos a ake

Connie Nicholas, her manslaughter con-
viction for shooting her married lover, For-
rest Teel, upheld by the Indiana Supreme
Court, resignedly drove to Indiana Women’s
Prison to begin serving her sentence. “You
can fight just so long, until you run out of
money,” the 45-year-old divorcee said as ex-
planation for her decision to give up making

CONNIE NICHOLAS
If you can't beat ‘em, join ‘em.

further appeals against the sentence. The
court had turned down technical objections
to her indictment raised by the 45-year-old
double divorcee from Indianapolis. She
contended the indictment was faulty in that
it did not specify the cartridges used in the
shooting were loaded with gunpowder. She
was sentenced to 2 to 21 years after being
convicted of manslaughter for shooting the
drug executive, though she contended Teel
was shot accidentally in a quarrel over his
jilting her for a younger woman. Mrs.
Nicholas has been free on bail since her
trial resulting from Mr. Teel’s Late Date
With Fate (November FRONT PAGE, 1958).

Clarence Pugh has been brought. into
court to stand trial for the fourth time in
less than two years on a charge of, murder-
ing service station attendant Charles No-

Z If
VA “44 KL e

dine. Demanding a new attorney, the an-
noyed Pugh angrily exploded at the ways
of justice by stating that “I want te smell
gas or I want to smell fresh air!” Pugh was
convicted and sentenced to die in the North
Carolina gas chamber at his first trial. The

State Supreme Court ordered a re-trial.

Two earlier attempts to comply with the
order for re-trial were thwarted by inability
to seat a jury and a defense postponement.
The present attempt to re-try Pugh was
postponed so that Judge William Y. Bickett
could decide whether or not to dismiss the
defendant’s court-appointed lawyers follow-
ing Pugh’s charge that he was not “getting
a fair deal” and-his demand for a new at-
torney “even if he’s just out of law school!”
(What’s Pink And Black And Wanted All
Over? September FRONT PAGE, 1958)

Richard Eugene Hickock and Perry Ed-

ward Smith have been “convicted of first
degree murder for their Massacre Of The
Clutter Family (April rronr PAGE, 1960),
and have been sentenced by a Garden City,
Kan., jury to die by hanging. Hickock and

Ricuard Hickock (L.) AND Perry SMITH
Togetherness.

Smith were convicted of using a knife and
shotgun in the killing of Herbert W. Clut-
ter, a onetime Eisenhower appointee to the
Farm Credit Board; Clutter’s wife Bonnie;
their’ 16-year-old daughter Nancy, and a
son, Kenyon, 15. Statements made to police
by the two men before the trial detailed
how the two ex-convicts killed the Clutters
because they did not want any witnesses to

their burglary of the Clutters’ farm home.
The murderers’ take was.a radio, a pair of
binoculars and less than $50 in cash. Smith
and Hickock were arrested in Las Vegas,
Nev., after authorities were put on their
trail by an inmate of the Kansas State
Penitentiary who said the robbery-murder
was hatched behind the walls of the prison
when, the informer stated, he mentioned to
his fellow-inmates Smith and Hickock that
the Clutters, for whom the informant had
once worked, were wealthy and had a safe
in their home. There was no such safe.

Larry Lord Motherwell, convicted in
Downieville, Cal., of the murder of elderly
Mrs. Pearl. Putney, found himself the tar-
get of prosecution efforts to send him to the
gas chamber by proving he also murdered

ey a ee tits

Larry Lorp MoTHERWELL
Escapes gas chamber.

his second wife and a defective child. The
42-year-old Washington, D. C., construc-
tion worker, who maintained his innocence
of the charge of killing the wealthy Mrs.
Putney after chauffeuring her cross-coun-
try on a “last fling” tour, said, after hear-
ing the verdict of guilty, “It wasn’t what I
expected.” The prosecution, in their at-
tempts for a death sentence rather than
life imprisonment, explained that when
Motherwell’s second wife was found face
up in a bathtub, the death was ruled acci-
dental; when their Mongoloid child was
found buried in a pet cemetery, Mother-
well said the child had strangled to death
and that he had buried her in a panic. How-
ever, despite the prosecution’s efforts to
discredit what the state terms Lyin’ Larry’s
Story (December FRONT PAGE, 1959), the
jury sentenced Motherwell to life im-
prisonment rather than death.

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HICKOCK, Richard,
April 14, 1965,

Savagely, bloodily slain bodies of Clutter famil

and SMITH, Perry, whs,

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nd in house (upper r.) on their prosperous wheat farm

DO YOU REMEMBER THIS HEADLINE MURDER?

~ KANSAS’ SLAUGHTER ON SUNDAY

URING the week following the
apparently senseless butchery
that wiped out four members of
one of the most respected families in the

state,
Holcomb, Kansas, still
horror that had gripped

region, observed, “It took th

one of the older residents of

numbed by the
everyone in the

is state almost

a full century to live down the title ‘Bloody
Kansas.’ This—this terrible thing makes
one feel that time has gone backwards.”

It did indeed, everyone agreed.
Murder in a small town is a
more personal than itis ina

lways much
large city.

Some of the most savage homicides are no
more than one-or-two-day sensations in a
large metropolitan center, where there is so
much news that the story is elbowed off the

front pages by a relentless proces

sion of

newer sensations; thus, the violent demise
of a fellow-human being is all but forgotten
by all except those immediately involved:
The families of the victim and murderer;

Mastes Detective Maga

by RANDALL SHANLEY

close neighbors of both; suspects or
witnesses; the police, whose job it is to
bring the killer to the bar of justice.

But the massacre of Herbert Clutter, his
wife and two cf his children would have
been a sen“ation in any setting, for a
number of reasons. For one thing, he wasa
man of considerable substance, a public
figure, a pillar of his church, a man known
far beyond the boundaries of his state.
Also, there was compelling interest in the
sheer ferocity of the crime. Itis conceivable
that a well-known personality like Clutter
might have incurred enemies, but what
possible reason could there have been for
the savagery that claimed the lives of his

gentle wife, his lovely 16-year-old
zine,

August, 1973.

daughter, and his only son, who was 15?

More than one person voiced the
thought that it was a good thing the
Clutters’ two older daughters were not at
home, or they would have met the same
fate. One was married and lived with her
husband in Illinois. The other was a stu-
dent nurse at the University of Kansas
Medical Center.

Herbert Clutter was one of the largest
wheat growers in southwestern Kansas.
His farm sparwled over 980 acres of some
of the most fertile land in America’s bread
basket, situated along the shores of the
Arkansas River. But Clutter was more
than just a wheat farmer. At the age of 48,
he was Chairman of the Kansas Con-
ference of Farm Organizations and
Cooperatives. During the first Eisenhower
administration, the President had ap-
pointed him to membership of the federal
Farm Credit Board. He could be found in
the forefront of all civic affairs. He was a

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DOUBLE-LENGTH FEATURE

man who loved his state and his country
and who worked tirelessly and without
hope of monetary reward in any cause
dedicated to improving the lot of his fellow
man.

He was also active in the affairs of his
church, a devout Methodist who had been
instrumental in the recent construction of
a new church.

The neat, comfortable but unosten-
tatious farm home of the Clutter family,
situated on a lonely road paralleling the
Arkansas River not far from the center of
Holcomb, had always been a mecca for
youngsters. Friends of the two older
Clutter girls had always congregated there
and had the run of the place. And though
they had married and gone away from
home, it continued the same with the
Clutters’ two younger children, Nancy, at
16 a radiant, gay, fun-loving teenager and
Kenyon, a 15-year-old youth who was
immensely popular with a wide circle of
friends.

For months, it had been the custom for
Mr. and Mrs. Clutter to drive two of
Nancy’s girl friends to church every Sun-
day. One of their parents would drive them
to the Clutter farm. There would be hot
chocolate and coffee on the stove in the big
kitchen, and freshly made sweet rolls or
some other breakfast delicacy, and
everyone would gather around the big
table. Then, when it was time, they’d all
pile into the car and Mr. Clutter would
drive them to church.

This happy routine came to an abrupt
end on the unforgettable Sunday morning
of November 15, 1959. It began in the same
way, but its ending was tragically
different.

A cold, bright November sun shone on
the frosty countryside along river as
Edward Rooks pulled up in front of the
Clutter farm that morning at 9:30 to
deliver his daughter, Judy, and her friend,
Diane Cowley there. As was his custom,
Mr. Rooks waited in the car till he saw the
girls safely inside. Judy and Diane ran up
the front steps and knocked on the door.
Usually, Nancy Clutter had the door open
in a rush even before the second rap. This

2h Sree =

Herbert Clutter, wife Nancy and their children, shown here in 1954 photo, were
popular, prominent in community, which was deeply shocked by multiple-murder

The wanton killing of four members of the Clutter family
in a small Kansas town became the basis for a best-selling
book by Truman Capote and a highly acclaimed movie which,
paradoxically, generated more sympathy for the slayers than

it did for their victims. This report restores logical

perspective to one of America’s most cold-blooded murder cases

was not a bitter man, he said, merely
misguided. He felt he was doing his wife,
“my childhood sweetheart,” and son a
favor by splitting from them.

“T didn’t want the kid to be like me,” he
said. “But instead of trying to hold down a
job, I started taking money.”

Robbery, he said, was a family failing.
He’d been raised in the ways of crime,
taught to boost (shoplift) at four, an ac-
complished thief at 14, in prison at 17.
Since his father was in prison much of his
childhood, according to the suspects, and
other members of his family were in and
out of jail often, he had been brought up
mostly in foster homes.

He portrayed himself as a modern day
Robin Hood who did not keep his riches for
himself. “I don’t even know how much I
took—I didn’t even count it, honest,” he
proclaimed.

“I gave it away, right and left. There
was a shoeshine boy downtown one day.
He shined my shoes and said the price was
a quarter. I gave him a $100 bill and told
him it was all his. He ran off, smiling, and
forgot his shoeshine kjt.” He dropped
munificent sums on other impoverished
people, he claimed, winos, drifters, pan-
handlers and families in need.

He wore the blue bandana, he said, to
conceal a scar on his forehead, received
when he was bucked off a bull during a
rodeo. “I rodeoed quite a lot,” he added.

He swore he used a 10-speed bicycle on
most of his jobs.

“I bopght the bike, I don’t steal proper-
ty,” he said. “I picked on banks, loan
companies and jewelry stores because they
aren’t individuals. Stores and gas stations
are owned by people, you see? I like people
and didn’t want to steal from them.”

He said he faked officers out on the
Shiro bank job by switching to a motorcy-
cle and taking a roundabout way through
Brenham to Houston. He passed several
Highway Patrol cars, he said, and waved
at one. He swore his guns were never
loaded.

“I know I did wrong and I know Ill
have to pay for it,” he concluded. “But I
know I made some people smile, some
who had nothing to smile about.

He was identified by victims in 17
robberies. “That’s him, can I slap him?”
asked one pretty girl.“No,ma’m’, corporal
punishment is illegal in Texas,” replied
adetective dryly.

Reickenbacker showed style to the
end. He employed the fabled tiger of Texas
courtrooms, Attorney Percy Foreman, to
plead him out. “Not even you could beat
these cases,” Reickenbacker sighed.

On March 23, 1973, Reickenbacker
pleaded guilty before U.S. District Judge
Allen B. Hannnay to four counts of bank
robbery and was assessed 15 years in
each case, the terms to run concurrently.

Assistantt District Attorney George
Karam says he’ll settlle the state’s score
for 35 years, but at this writing he has not
reached an agreement with Roeman.

“I think 25 years would be ap-
propriate,” said the huge, lion-faced
lawyer. “There isn’t that much difference
in time to be served before he’s:eligible for
parole.”

“Thirty-five years,” Karam insists with
a smile, adding one concession: “And we'll
give him back his bandana.” eo¢

Kansas Slaughter
(Continued from page 25)

with the preliminary phases of the in-
vestigation completed, the bodies of the
four victims were removed to a mortuary in
Garden City, where autopsies would be
performed. Sheriff Robinson had notified
the Clutters’ two married daughters of the
tragedy and they were making
preparations to come home immediately.

Extensive questioning of Gerhard
Brenner, the Clutters’ employe and
caretaker, who lived 500 yards from the
death scene, was not very productive,
through no fault of his. Brenner said he
had last seen the family around the time he
was finishing up his chores the previous
evening, about. seven or seven-fifteen
Saturday night.

“How did they seem?” Sheriff Robinson
asked. “Did Mr. Clutter or any of the others
appear to be nervous, or act in any way out
of the ordinary?”

The man shook his head. “They were
just like they always were. Mr. Clutter
gave me my paycheck. Mrs. Clutter asked
me if I’d have a cup of tea. They usually
drank coffee, but she knows—she knew—”
he paused and gulped. “And I said no,
because I’d be having supper in a little
while. She was pleasant, like always. A
wonderful woman. The kids were in and
out while I was talking to them. They said,
‘Hi, Mr. Brenner, how are things?’ Nice
children they were. Always polite, respect-
ful of their elders. That’s how they were
brought up. :

“There was nothing out of the ordinary.
Like I said, they were just like always.”

Brenner told the sheriff he had gone to
bed about 10 o’clock. He had neither seen
nor heard anything of a suspicious nature.
He had heard no shots.

Two of the Clutters’ nearest neighbors
also were questioned. They had not heard
any shots either, although this was not
surprising, since they lived a considerable
distance away. Neither family had seen or
heard anything suspicious. They had not
seen any strangers:in the vicinity within
the past several "ays.

It seemed clear to the sheriff that the
gags used on Mr. Clutter and his son had
been torn from the same piece of non-
descript material. There was _ little
likelihood that it might be traced. The cord
used to bind three of the victims, he hoped,
offered slightly more promise. It was in-
terwoven cord of a type used for Venetian
blinds, but heavier, although not quite as
heavy as clothesline cord. Examination of
all the blinds in the Clutter home showed
their cords to be intact; the binding cord
had not been ripped from them. -

The knots used in tying up the victims
were identical, which seemed to indicate
they had been tied by one man. Sheriff
Robinson described them as “glove knots
finished off with a half-hitch.”

“That kind of knot,” he told reporters,
“would be known to anyone who’s worked
around livestock. Whoever tied them up
meant to keep them tied up. He was a man
who knew knots.”

As for the cord itself, the sheriff said in
response to a question, it was not the type
of rope used around cattle. “But,” he add-

‘ed, “it is very stout and strong.”

The only other positive evidence the
sheriff found av the murder house was
meager indeed. The killer had carefully cut
the wires of the two telephones in the
house, and had gagged and bound three of
the victims expertly. Other than these
factors, the evidence was of a negative
nature.

There were no signs that the victims
struggled with the slayer. There were no
spent cartridge cases to be found
anywhere. This indicated that the killer
had carefully gathered up the spent shells
and taken them with him when he left the
scene of his four murders. Had he disposed
of them in the vicinity? A search of the
surrounding countryside was being con-
ducted and might turn up something.

The motive for the appalling massacre
of the family of four was a complete
mystery. So far as could be determined at
this time, nothing was stolen from the
Clutter house. And the coroner had said he
doubted that sex had motivated the fright-
ful crime. Sheriff Robinson agreed; rarely
in a sex murder does the killer leave his
victims’ clothing intact or unrumpled.

By early morning of the following day,
a dozen agents of the KBI were at the
Clutter farmhouse, dilgently launching
their probe under the leadership of Agent
Al Dewey. Among the crack investigators
sent from Topeka were . Agents. Roy
Church, Harold Nye and Clarence Duntz.
Sheriff Robinson apprised them of his own
meager findings. They carefully studied
photographs which Robinson had ordered
taken before the bodies were removed.
Then they began their own meticulous
examination, not only of the rooms where
the murder victims were found, but of the
rest of the house and grounds as well.

This search, too, failed to produce
anything of significance.

Agent Dewey cut several samples from
the cord with which the victims were
bound and sent a squad of agents out to
canvass any outlet in the county which
might have sold such cord in recent weeks.

On Monday afternoon the Clutters’
surviving daughters arrived in Holcomb to
attend the funeral service for the rest of the
family. Before the services, however,
Agent Dewey asked them to accompany
him through the house in an effort to
determine if the killer had stolen anything.

The first time through, they could find
nothing missing. Just to make sure, they
walked through the rooms again. This
time they noticed that Nancy’s radio was
missing.

“It was a Zenith portable,” one of the
sisters said. “She used to keep it in her
room, but sometimes she’d take it
downstairs with her. It was gray and aqua
blue, with gold trim.” She estimated its size
at about 7 inches high, 11 inches wide and
6 inches deep.

“But no one would have killed my whole
family for a portable radio!” she said
incredulously. “It couldn’t have been
worth more than forty dollars.”

Agent Dewey agreed this seemed a
most unlikely motive for such a frightful
toll in human life. For the time being, at
least, the missing radio added confusion
rather than clarification to the motive for

the multiple murders.
Somewhat later it was found that a

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said, “Go back to Garden City. Tell the
county attorney what’s happened. Then
call the KBI [Kansas Bureau of In-
vestigation] in Topeka. Ask fora couple of
their best men.”

The sheriff then began a careful ex-
amination of the house, starting in the
bedrooms. He was struck particularly by
the complete absence of any signs of a
struggle. Mrs. Clutter’s handbag lay on the
dresser in her room, as if she had just set it
there. It contained the usual assortment of
items, plus a few dollars in cash and some
change. On the night table in Nancy’s
room, Sheriff Robinson found a diamond
ring and a church envelope with money in

it.

“Tt doesn’t look like a robbery motive,” the
sheriff said to Dr. Fenton. “What about
sex?”

The coroner shook his head. “I don’t
think so. It doesn’t look like rape. I can’t be
positive till after the autopsy, of course, but
it aoesn’t appear that either of them
was molested sexually.”

“Let’s go down to the basement,” the
sheriff suggested. “ I want you to take a
look at the bodies down there.”

Dr. Fenton picked up his bag and
accompanied Sheriff Robinson to the rum-
pus room. After carefully examining the
bodies of Mr. Clutter and his son, he gave it
as his opinion that both had been slain at
about the same time as Mrs. Clutter and
Nancy. “It all probably happened within a
fairly short time,” he said.

Sheriff Robinson nodded. “I doubt the
killer would have hung around here for
very long.”

Again, he was struck by the absence of
any indication. that a struggle had oc-
curred. Everything seemed to be in its
place, chairs, end tables, television, hi-fi.
The gory bodiés of the two murder victims
were the only jarring note in an otherwise
orderly room.

- Robinson found only one thing that.
might—or might not—be a clue. In the
faint film of dust on the cardboard mat-
tress carton on which Herbert Clutter’s
body lay, he could see two sets of clearly

etched footprints. Each set was quite dis-
tinctive, and obviously made by the same
pair of shoes. As clearly as if they had been
made by a rubber stamp, each print had
left a diamond-shaped tread. It was the
sort of tread often found on the rubber or
composition soles of heavy work shoes or
hunting boots, the sheriff noted, or
possibly Army shoes or paratroopers’
boots.

Careful not to disturb them, the sheriff
put the carton aside for a detailed ex-
amination by the crime laboratory
specialists. When a suspect was found, his
boots might match those prints.

Finney County Attorney Duane West
and the deputy who had gone for him
arrived at this point. Prosecutor West said
he had called Topeka and had talked with
KBIChief Logan H. Sanford, and Sanford
had promised to rush a team of in-
vestigators to Holcomb at once.

At about one o’clock that afternoon,
(Continued on page 54)

Key prober in case was Agent Al Dewey of Kansas Bureau of Investigation

After intensive probe, handcuffed Perry
Smith and Richard Hickock, shown below
as he fainted in cops’ arms, were brought
in for interrogation in Clutter slayings

day, however, there was no answer. The
girls knocked again, then looked around at
Mr. Rooks with a puzzled frown. J udy tried
the doorknob and found it unlocked.

“Go ahead in,” Rooks called. “I’ll wait
here. See where everyone is—maybe
they’re downstairs in the rumpus room
and didn’t hear you.”

Judy and Diane walked in and instant-
ly became aware of an utter silence,
peculiar in a house where ordinarily

everyone was up and about at that hour.

Nancy and her family were early risers; it

was inconceivable that they still were in
bed.

A glance into the living room and
kitchen showed no one there, nor any sign
that anyone was up. ‘The familiar coffee
pot was not on the ‘ove; the table was not
set; there was a complete absence of the
usual baking aromas that generally
permeated the house when they arrived
each Sunday.

“That’s funny...” Judy said ina hushed
tone. She looked questioningly at her
friend, wondering what they should do
next.

“Let’s go up to Nancy’s room,” Diane
said. “Maybe the family’s come down with
a bug—you know, flu or something.”

They ran up the stairs and turned into
the open door of their friend’s room. An
instant later, Edward Rooks, sitting out-
side in his car, heard the sudden high-
pitched screams of the two girls, shrill with
terror. He was out of the car in a flash and
had just burst through the front door when
the two girls came rushing down the stairs.

“What is it?” Rooks cried. “What’s
wrong?”

His daughter, her face an ashen mask
of horror, could only mumble un-
intelligibly. Diane looked equally terror-
stricken, but she managed to blurt, “In the
bedroom—Nancy—she’s dead! She’s
beer killed!”

. Rooks charged up the stairs and to the
first open door, which led into Nancy’s
bedroom. Nancy Clutter lay face down on
her bed, her dark hair matted with blood, a
gaping, ugly hole in the back of her head.
She wore a blue flannel bathrobe over a
pair of pink pajamas. Her hands were tied
behind her back with a piece of cord. Her
ankles also were bound.

Mr. Rooks did not have to feel the
teenager’s pulse or listen for a heartbeat to
know she was dead. He wheeled and ran
down the stairs to the living recom. He
snatched up the telephone. Then he saw
that the wire had been cut. He cou!dn’t call
anyone from that phone.

Rooks ran out the front door. His
daughter and Diane Cowley stood by his
car, sobbing softly, numb with the shock of
the first violence their young eyes had ever
beheld. ;

“Get in the car,” he told them.
“Quickly!”

He started the engine and spun the car
out of the driveway, heading for the home
of Gerhard Brenner, an employe of Clutter
who lived in a house some 500 yards
distant from the main house. He used
Brenner’s telephone to call Sheriff Earl
Robinson in Garden City.

Some fifteen minutes later, cars bear-
ing the sheriff, two deputies and Finney

County Coroner Dr.. Robert Fenton
screamed to a stop in the driveway of the
Clutter farm.

“Nancy Clutter has been shot,” thewhite.
faced Edward Rooks greeted them. “She’s
tied up in her bedroom. The rest of the
family’s not here, apparently.”

The sheriff nodded and led the way into
the house, followed by the deputies and the
coroner. In Nancy’s room, he took one look
at the body of the young girl and uttered a
single word, “Shotgun.” Taking a knife
from his pocket, he cut the cord that bound
the girl’s wrists behind her. He did the
same with the bonds on her ankles.

Dr. Fenton examined the body briefly
and said, “The shot got her in the brain.
She must have died instantly.”

“When?” asked Sheriff Robinson.

Dr. Fenton shrugged. “Hard to say. I'd
guess it was sometime between midnight
and two this morning.”

“Let’s look around,” the sheriff said.
“Let’s see if we can find any other member
of the family.”

They didn’t have to look far before they
found the second victim. Sheriff Robinson
made that discovery when he walked into
the bedroom next door to N ancy’s. There
he found the slain girl’s mother, 45-year-
old Mrs. Bonnie Clutter. She, too, was
lying in a bloodstained bed, a gaping,
blood-encrusted hole in the right side of her
head. The body was clad in peach-colored
pajamas.

The sight of the second victim gave
Sheriff Robinson a sinking feeling in the
pit of his stomach, a feeling born of the
certainty that the slaughter had not been
confined to just two persons. Where was
Herbert Clutter? Where was Kenyon, the
boy?

He went back out into the hall and
started opening doors to other bedrooms.
One bed showed signs of having been slept
in, but there was no one there. He felt a
sense of relief, but only momentarily. The
certainty was growing in his mind that
more murder had been done here.

“Downstairs,” he said to his deputies as
he backed out of the room. “The others are
probably down there somewhere.” They
followed him wordlessly.

The three men went through all the
rooms on the ground floor. They found no
one. They saw nosigns of a struggle, which
seemed strange, in view of the carnage on
the second floor.

Opening doors, Sheriff Robinson final-
ly found the one that led to the basement.
The search ended there. In the rumpus
room lay the bodies of Herbert Clutter and
his son Kenyon.

Mr. Clutter was face down on a card-
board mattress cover on the floor. His
hands and ankles were securely bound
with the same type of cord which had been
used to bind his daughter. A gag had been
stuffed into his mouth. It looked as if the
murderer had fired two shotgun blasts into
his face, but even that had not satisfied his
bloodlust. Clutter’s throat had been cut,
too.

Young Kenyon had been bound and
gagged in the same way as his father. The
boy was shot in the back of his head.

The sheriff and his deputies stared in
stunned silence. Finally the sheriff said

grimly, “We
can get.” Tu
said, “Go b
county atto
call the kK
vestigation
their best n
The she
amination
bedrooms. |!
the compl
struggle. M
dresser in !
there. It co:
items, plus
change. ©:
room, Sher
ring and a
it.
“It doesn't
sheriff sai
sex?”

The cor
think so. It
positive til
it aoesn't
was moles

“Lat’s ;
sheriff su;
look at the

Dr. Fe
accompan
pus room
bodies of
as his opi!
about the

Nancy. “I:
fairly sho
Sherift
killer wou
very long
Again
any indi
curred. |
place, ch:
The gory
were the

orderly r

Robin
might—:
faint filn
tress ca:
body las
etched fi
tinctive,

pair of s!

made b:

left a d

sort of t

compos’

hunting
possibl,
boots.
Care
put the
aminat
speciali
boots n
Fin:
and th
arrived
he had

KBICh

had p

vestig:

At :

lence the
ouse was
refully cut
es in the
id three of
nan these
negative

1e victims
-e were no
be found
the killer
pent shells
he left the
1e disposed
rch of the.
being con-
athing.
: massacre
. complete
termined at
a from the
had said he
i the fright-
reed; rarely
r leave his
umpled.
lowing day,
were at the
launching
iip of Agent
ivestigators
gents. Roy
-ence Duntz.
mofhisown
‘ully studied
had ordered
‘re removed.
ticulous
s where
it of the
s as well.
to produce

amples from
victims were
igents out to
‘county which
-ecent weeks.
the Clutters’
n Holcomb to
the rest of the
es, however,
vy accompany
an effort to
lenanything.
iey could find
.ke sure, they
, again. This
cy’s radio was

ie,” one of the
keep it in her
ne’d take it
vray and aqua
timated its size
iches wide and

illed my whole
lio!” she said
“t have been
-ty dollars.”
this seemed a
uch a frightful

- time being, at
dded confusion

» the motive for

s found that a

ee ae ee

., pair of binoculars also was missing, or
‘ thought to be missing. It was possible Mr.

Clutter had loaned them to someone. He
had been known to lend them to friends at
various times in the past. :

- Routinely, Agent Dewey ordered the
broadcast of a bulletin describing the miss-
ing articles. He still did not know—and
there was no way of telling—whether any
cash had been stolen by the slayer. The
wallet found in a pocket of Mrs. Clutter’s
trousers contained no bills.
But in a side pocket agents found a couple
of $5 bills and several singles. Clutter was
not in the habit of carrying much cash.

In their search for fingerprints, the
investigators found themselves con-
fronted by an almost hopeless situation.
All surfaces were carefully dusted and
dozens of prints were lifted. But the home
of the victims had always been a gathering
place for local youngsters. They would
come with Kenyon or Nancy to play
records, watch TV, and partake of
refreshments. They had the run of the
house. In the recreation room alone,

“technicians found literally hundreds of

fingerprints, some smudged, some quite
clear. .

Four days after the shootings an agent
came across several expended shotgun
shells less than half a mile from the
farmhouse. Since this was the hunting
season, however, the find did not seem to
offer anything especially promising.

That same day, Agent Nye discovered
some bloodstains on the railing of abridge
across the Arkansas River. But swiftly
conducted tests showed they were not
made by human blood; it was later es-
tablished that the stains had come from
the viscera of a slaughtered hog which a
neighboring farmer had tossed over the
rail into the river.

The clue on which Sheriff Robinson
and the KBI agents had pinned their
strongest hopes—the diamond-shaped
tread in the footprints on the mattress
carton on-which Herbert Clutter’s body
was founnd—had so far amounted to little
for them. A check with military
authorities, who forwarded actual-size
photographs to Army and Marine Corps
procurement offices in Washington, had
proved only one thing: the footprints had
not been made by government-issue boots.
That narrowed the possibilities to either
work shoes or hunting boots and a check
with a long list of manufacturers of such
items was continuing.

No trace of the missing radio. or
binoculars had been found. The same was
true of the cord used to bind the victims; no
local merchant could be found who stocked
cord of that type.

Further questioning of Clutter’s farm ,

foreman, Gerhard Brenner, produced some
information, but none that was especially
helpful. Brenner was Mr. Clutter’s only
full-time employe on a year-round basis.
All others were seasonal employes,
itinerants for the most part. Brenner

provided the names of some. but he added, .
“You'll never find most of em. They come |

and they go. Hardly any have any perma-
nent address. They travel around and get
work wherever they can find it during the
season.”
Attempts to trace these migratory

workers proved the foreman was right. It
appeared a hopeless task.
Agent Dewey was particularly in-

‘terested in learning whether Herbert

Clutter ever kept any large sums of cashin
his home. Brenner was quite positive that
his murdered employer never had done so.
Mr. Clutter paid all his bills by check. He
met his weekly payroll by check also.

The most careful canvass of Clutter’s
friends, neighbors and business associates
established quite conclusively that he was
not the type of man who might have made
enemies. Scrupulously ethical and honest,
he was known as a man who would lean
over backwards to help anyonein need. He
owed no man a dime other than bills for
current expenses. His credit rating was
triple-A. He enjoyed the respect of
everyone who knew him, the affection of
intimates.

By mid-December, a month after the
killings, investigators confessed they had
made no progress in their search for the
murderer. ‘Throughout Kansas and
neighboring states, dozens of known
criminals had _ been picked up and
questioned. KBI agents had traveled
thousands of miles to interrogate suspects
arrested for violent crimes in distant
jurisdictions. None could be connected
with the murder of four members of the
Clutter family.

Watch for

the August issue of

TRUE DETECTIVE
On Sale July 17th

By this time, investigators were inclin-
ed to believe they were dealing with a
psychopathic killer who had been fiendish-
ly successful in covering his tracks and
who might be waiting only until the heat
died down before striking again.

It would be a long time, however, before
the heat died down in this case. The
massacre of the Clutters had created a
shock wave across the state which would
not subside.

The governor of Kansas had issued
orders to appropriate bureau heads to
spare no effort or expense to bring the
murderer to justice. In Finney County,
doors were kept bolted and weapons han-
dy. Menfolk were reluctant to leave their
families unless it was absolutely un-
avoidable. ;

In an inte: view with reporters, Sheriff
Robinson admitted, “I just can’t see-a
motive of any kind. Even Charles
Starkweather, Nebraska’s notorious mass
murderer, had some kind of motive when
he killed. When people resisted him, he

shot them down. But this fellow was simp- |

ly amean, cold-blooded killer. He tied them
up and executed them one by one even,
though they didn’t lift a finger to resist.
Not only that, but he cut Mr. Clutter’s
throat after shooting him twice.”

But though the trail grew cold, the
determination of the sheriff and the KBI
agents never cooled. Grimly, doggedly,
they pursued every lead, no matter how
slim or far fetched, relinquishing it only
when they were convinced it had no bear-
ing on the Clutter murders. Within a couple

of weeks, three men were apprehended as
they lurked in the vicinity of the Clutter
farm. Each one was thoroughly in-
vestigated. Each turned out to bea member
of that curious breed which appears in the
wake of headline crimes—the morbidly
curious sensation seekers.

As the Clutter case continued to claim
top priority on the efforts of the KBI,
routine crimes and offenses of a less spec-
tacular nature went on as usual
throughout the state. Officials, whose
responsibility such crimes were, were kept
busy. One was Ed Hayes, an agent for the
parole board who worked out of Olathe,
Kansas, hundreds of miles across the
state, not far from Kansas City.

On December 14th, the overworked
parole agent, in a routine check of his
records, noted that one of his “boys” had

become seriously remiss in reporting. .

Within the hour, coincidentally, he learned
this man not only was missing, but that
the sheriff of Johnson County, of which
Olathe is the county seat, had issued a
warrant for the parolee’s arrest on a
charge of passing two rubber checks.
Richard E. Hickock was the name of

the parole violator and alleged bad-
-check passer. Hicktck, 28 years old, had
half a dozen arrests on his record since
1949, but he had served only one prison
sentence. He was sentenced to Kansas
State Penitentiary at Lansing in 1958 ona
stolen-car rap. He was paroled in the
summer of 1959 under conditions which
required him to report to Parole Officer
Hayes twice a week.

The record showed that Hickock had
not reported since November 5th. Hayes
promptly obtained a warrant for parole
violation against the missing ex-con.

Routinely, a copy of this warrant came
to the attention of KBI Agent Dewey. This
immediately alerted Dewey, for the reason
that he recalled having seen, quite recent-
ly, a similar warrant issued by a different
parole office, for a different parolee. The
parolee in that case was Perry Edward
Smith, 31, convicted of burglary and grand
larceny in 1956, paroled in J uly, 1959. Like
the missing Richard Hickock, Perry Smith
had not reported to his parole officer since
the first week in November.

Was the timing of their disappearance
coincidence? Agent Dewey would not
accept this until he had checked out a
hunch. A study of their records showed
that both men had been inmates at the
Lansing prison at the same time. Did they
know each other?

A telephone call to the Lansing warden,
Tracy Hand, was most illuminating on
this point. Not only did they know each
other, but they were buddies. They were
hard-case characters, the warden reported,
who had had no friends in the prison save
each other.

Agent Dewey immediately put out a 19-
state alarm on the pair of parole violators.
And, on the presumption they had
probably crossed a state line, he asked the
FBI to issue warrants for interstate flight.
Then Dewey interviewed the Johnson
County merchant who had filed the com-
plaint about Dick Hickock’s bad checks
He learned that the checks were passed on
November 18th and that Hickock was
accompanied at the time by a man whose
description closely resembled that of miss-

“If Christ were to return and pick twelve disciples from this church,” the Reverend Cowan said in his graveside eulogy, “I am sure Herb Clut-
ter would be among the first.” More than 1,000 people came to honor the memory of the Clutter family at the services. In the background
are some of the high school classmates of Nancy and Kenyon. At the time of her death, Nancy’s picture hung in honor in the school hallway.

turned away from knocking at the farmhouse door and
called to her parents who were waiting in their car. “No-

body answers. Maybe the Clutters went to pick up Susan .

Kidwell.”

Nancy ran down the steps and to her parents’ car. Her
father swung around the sweeping driveway in front of
Herbert Clutter’s big, well-cared-for home and quickly
drove three-quarters of a mile down the side road to the
main highway. In a few minutes, he stopped the car again
_this time in front of the home of Mrs. Wilma Kidwell
in the small community of Holcomb, Kansas. He got out
of the car and went to the door.

When Mrs. Kidwell answered his knock, he asked, “Did
the Clutters come by for Susan yet?”

“No, Susan’s all dressed and waiting,” she replied. “Are
you taking the girls to Sunday School this morning?”

“Herb Clutter was supposed to. We just drove Nancy
over his place, but nobody answered the door. We figured
they had- come by here for your daughter. I guess maybe
Nancy just didn’t knock hard enough, though. We'll go
back and try again. Susan can come along with us.”

i is Ewalts and Susan Kidwell returned to the Clutter
farmhouse. The two girls went to the door and both
knocked. When there still was no response, they tried the
door. The knob turned, and the door swung open.

“Nancy,” one of the girls called as they went inside.
Her cry echoed through the large, two-story house, which
seemed unnaturally quiet.

“Maybe Mr. Clutter had to go some place unexpect-
edly,” Susan suggested. “Let’s go on up to Nancy’s room.
Maybe she can’t hear us.”

They climbed the familiar stairs to the second floor

The sheriff
the body.
“There’s n
in the back
Let’s search |
Down the
officers glanc
came reality
Lying on
had been, w
thing—the bec
“Tt’s Mrs. (
bed. “And st
Already st
the two office
expecting the
Finding n
farmhouse,
through the
there. Their
completely w
In the reci
old Kenyon ‘
tern of his n
gunned in th
Forty-eight
way as his w
stretched out
and furnace
him, they sa
victim’s thro
3 “All four «
e Nancy, Keny

‘To find the kil
the apprehens
is KBI Agent t

and turned right to the open doorway of sixteen-year-old
Nancy Mae Clutter’s bedroom. They paused for a moment
at the door, as their minds tried to grasp the horror of
what their eyes were seeing. Then their screams filled the
silent house as they ran down the stairs and out the front
door to the Ewalt car.

|i took the Ewalts a minute or two to get the girls
quieted enough to understand what they were scream-
ing about. They sobbed out what they had seen in Nancy
Clutter’s bedroom, and Mr. Ewalt’s face hardened. He
ran into the house, looking for a telephone. Locating it,
he jerked the receiver to his ear—but there was no familiar
buzzing tone. He glanced down at the floor and saw that
the wires had been torn from the wall.

Racing back to his car where Mrs. Ewalt still was trying
to calm the girls, he sped back to the Kidwell home to
phone police in Garden City, seven miles southeast.

Ewalt’s report was relayed from the Garden City police
to the office of the Finney County sheriff, in whose juris-
diction the crime would fall. Minutes later, Sheriff Ear]
Robertson and Undersheriff Wendel Meier were speeding
to the home of the Clutters who were probably the
county’s most prominent family.

As soon as they arrived, they climbed the stairs to
Nancy Mae’s room. At her door, they stood still in shock,
. the girls had done before, at the scene that confronted
them.

Te attractive teenager lay on her side on the bed, in
her nightclothes. Her feet were tied at the ankles, and
her hands were lashed together behind her back. She lay
facing the wall, a wall splattered with blood.

CRIME DETECTIVE

2side eulogy, “l am sure Herb Clut-
at.the services. In the background
ing in honor in the school hallway.

1 doorway of sixteen-year-old
n. They paused for a moment
tried to grasp the horror of
Then their screams filled .the
n the stairs and out the front

ute or two to get the girls
tand what they were scream-
what they had seen in Nancy
Ewalt’s face hardened. He
for a telephone. Locating it,
-ar—but there was no familiar
own at the floor and saw that
n the wall.
‘re Mrs. Ewalt still was trying
ack to the Kidwell home to
, seven miles southeast.

from the Garden City police
ounty sheriff, in whose juris-
Minutes later, Sheriff Earl
Wendel Meier were speeding
‘rs Who were probably the
lily.

they climbed the stairs to
oor, they stood still in shock,
at the scene that confronted

on her side on the bed, in
were tied at the ankles, and
ier behind her back. She lay
ered with blood.

CRIME DETECTIVE

The sheriff crossed to the bed and quickly examined
the body.

“There’s nothing we can do for her. She’s been shot
in the back of the head. Looks like it was a shotgun.
Let’s search the house!”

Down the hall, another bedroom door stood open. The
officers glanced inside, and again the nightmare that be-
came reality before them took a moment to accept.

Lying -bn the bed, tied and gagged as Nancy Clutter
had been, was a woman. Again, blood spattered every-
thing—the bed, the wall, her head.

“It’s Mrs. Clutter,” the sheriff saw as he crossed to the
bed. “And she’s been shot in the head—just like Nancy.”

Already stunned by the enormity of their discoveries,
the two officers went on with their search of the house,
expecting the worst, but hoping that it wouldn’t be true.

Finding nothing further on the second floor of the
farmhouse, they went downstairs and moved quickly
through the first floor. There was no sign of violence
there. Their hopes picked up a little, only to be dashed
completely when they went on to the basement.

In the recreation room there, the body of fifteen-year-
old Kenyon Clutter lay on a sofa in the corner. The pat-
tern of his murder was the same—tied, gagged and shot-
gunned in the head.

Forty-eight-year-old Herbert Clutter had diéd the same
way as his wife and two children. His trussed-up body was
stretched out on the floor of his combination workshop
and furnace room. As the officers bent over to examine
him, they saw that in addition to the shotgun wound, this
victim’s throat had been cut.

“All four of them—the whole family . . . Herb, Bonnie,
Nancy, Kenyon . . . It’s impossible,” the sheriff murmured

‘To find the killers of the Clutters you had to dig deep in the dregs of socie

to himself as the full impact of the massacre he had un-
covered registered on his brain. For a moment, he stood
in stunned silence. Then once more, he was the efficient
law officer, alert to what must be done, and determined
to find the killer or killers of this fine family. His orders
to Meier were crisp and grim:

“Call the coroner. Get everyone from the office out
here! And get the police from Garden City and the high-
way patrol. Get hold of Al Dewey from the KBI (Kansas
Bureau of Investigation) and have him get his men and
equipment out here, too.”

Also contacted was Reverend+ Leonard Cowan, pastor
of the First Methodist Church in Garden City, where the
Clutters had been members. He was asked to come to the
Clutter farm, and arrived to find the driveway filling with
official cars and equipment. When the situation was ex-
plained to him, the minister returned to his church to
make an announcement of the tragedy as the congregation
assembled. Then he left the pulpit to carry out a sad task.
He had agreed to contact and break the bitter news to
the remaining members of the Clutter family—two elder
daughters, one married and living in Mount Carmel, Il-
linois, and the other attending home-coming activities at
Southwestern College in Winfield.

EANWHILE the investigation of the Clutter massacre
was moving along quickly.

Photographs of the bodies had been taken, and the
coroner had completed his preliminary investigation. All
four of the victims, he reported, had been shot at close
range in the head with a shotgun. The slash in Mr. Clut-
ter’s throat was deep and probably would have caused
death, but the shotgun blast (Continued on page 49)

ty. Quiet, persistent, ingenious police work was responsible for

the apprehension, far from the scene of their terrible crime, of Richard Eugene Hickock, left, and Perry Edward Smith. Behind Hickock

is KBI Agent Harold Nye. Agent A. A. Dewey is behind Smith. Their arrest a

nd extradition came in Las Vegas; justice awaits them in Kansas.

he demanded. “What use
have for it?”
letectives rushed out to St.
either the clerk nor any help
he suspect’s hotel had seen
1 leave the place Sunday
t the officers found a woman
er in the same block who
e had seen an old man on
boarding a Portland street
id six o’clock that evening.
investigation developed
dows wash’t Annie’s maiden
hat this was, the police re-
divulge, since her parents
| alive and living in the
f Portland, not Chicago, as
had claimed.
hole story is perfectly clear,”
ld the suspect. “You swore
d find your wife, and you
sh I don’t pretend to know
had taken a fictitious name
ie was afraid of you.
you discovered her where-
ou sent her your phone
na slip of paper. Maybe
-d to lure her’ to a place
wouldn’t be found readily.
he was supposed to get in.
you. She didn’t, and you
d she’d skip again. That
you went to the hotel
‘ith a bottle of kerosene.
ke the chance ‘of being
> reason, you weren’t.”
1 continued to deny the
igh the evidence was rapid-
up against nim. District
Walter Evans thought it
He presented the case to
omah County grand jury
10th and obtained a first-
der indictment.

2st of McIntosh brought
he release and complete
of Bernard Gordon, who
ered by the authorities to
the victim of coincidence.
put up a stiff defense
ent to trial before Judge
augh and a jury in’ Circuit
land, but Evans brought a
esses from Myrtle Creek,
‘re that the crippled hus-
reatened to get even with
ing wife.
was out exactly twenty-
in considering the ex-
e, but on May 16, 1914,
s after the girl’s horrible
brought in a verdict of
-ond-degree murder. The
promptly given a life

ge of fifty-eight James
‘tered prison. In 1936,
S eighty, the killer suf-
attack and was removed
on hospital at Salem.
uring words that broke
O year silence, he con-
me, and died.

ime Bernard Gordon
are unnecessary em-
in innocent person.

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THE CLUTTER

MASSACRE

(Continued from page 33)

had made it a certainty. Neither Bon-
nie Clutter nor her daughter Nancy
had been molested sexually. The fe-
males and Herb Clutter were wearing
their normal sleeping clothes. Kenyon
had on shorts, blue jeans and a T-
shirt, but was barefooted. The inves-
tigators learned that the boy normally
slept in his shorts, and they theorized
he may have quickly pulled on the
jeans and T-shirt.

After the bodies were removed,
the Clutter house was giver a thor-
ough scrutiny by the investigators
who now numbered a score or more.

The telephone wires in the study
and kitchen had been cut, it was
found, not torn loose as it originally
appeared.

In the master bedroom on the first
floor of the house, Herb Clutter’s wal-
let lay on the bed. There was no
money in it, and several of the cards
appeared to have been shaken from
it. The room seemed to be in a gen-
eral state of disorder, as though there
had been a struggle or a search.

CRIME DETECTIVE

On the mantle in Nancy’s bedroom
lay a dollar bill. Several piggy banks
full of coins also were found there in
addition to a church donation en-
velope with some money inside and a
signed pledge card. Nancy, active in
the Methodist Youth Fellowship at
the church, as was her brother, had
been scheduled to conduct the lesson
that fateful Sunday night at the
group’s meeting. The session was can-
celled when word of the murders
spread.

In general, the closets and drawers
in the Clutter house seemed to be un-
touched. In an office attached to the
house, two rifles and two shotguns
were found in an unlocked closet.
None of the guns had been fired re-
cently, tests showed.

Some of the officers felt that the
generally neat state of the farmhouse
indicated that robbery had not been a
motive for the crime. Sexual motives
also were ruled out by many of the
investigators at the scene since the

‘coroner had found no indications of

such crimes on any of the victims.
This, theorized some Officials, left
only a madman as the possible killer.

When this theory reached the
crowd which had gathered near the
Clutter home—a crowd so large that
roadblocks had to be set up—a wave
of apprehension swept through the
spectators. Some of the bystanders

immediately left for the safety of
their own homes, with their locked
doors and windows. In fact, within a
few days after the Clutter massacre,
many of the hardware stores in the
area reported that they were sold out
of all kinds of door and window
locks, in a section where the residents
normally didn’t bother to fasten these
entrances at all.

ro madman theory was argued
against by other officers at the
Clutter farm almost as soon as it was
advanced. A madman wouldn't have
been so well-prepared, they pointed
out, as to bring tape and cords and a
gun to the house with him. And the
time of the murders was apparently
carefully selected, too. By striking
late at night, apparently shortly after
the family had gone to bed, the killer
had made certain there would be no
one around the normally busy Clutter
farm. A classmate of Nancy Clutter’s
had been able to tell the officers that
the slayer must have arrived some
time after ten-thirty p.m. because he
had been visiting at the house until
about that time.

The officers were unable to find
anyone who had heard the fatal shots
being fired.

It seemed the only possible witness
to the murders might have been the
Clutters’ dog—a large animal, part

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collie and part shepherd, who sat
mournfully on the side porch of the
Clutter home as the officers went
about the investigation. Wondering
why the dog apparently hadn’t put up
any commotion that might have been
heard by neighbors or passersby on
the murder night, the investigators
discussed it with several of the men
who worked on the Clutter farm and
learned that the dog was gun-shy and
probably had run off at the first shot.

HE following morning, Monday,
the police and sheriff’s officers as-
signed to the case were faced with no
promising leads. They were joined

that day by four KBI investigator®”

from Topeka, under the direction of
Logan H. Sanford, special agent in
charge.

Sanford was, of course, familiar
with Herbert Clutter’s name and repu-
tation as one of the most important
wheat growers in the state, but he
asked that the officers on the scene
fill him in on the dead man’s back-
ground in the hope that something
said might suggest a new line of in-
vestigation. )

Clutter, he was told, had been born
near Ingalls, about thirty miles east
of his present home near Holcomb.
Active in agricultural circles for many
years in. western Kansas, he had
served as agricultural agent in Finney
County from 1934 to 1959. In 1940,
he had taken an interest in large-scale
wheat farming and devoted much of
his time to it. At the time of his death,
he owned 960 acres of wheat lands
and had leases on extensive acreage
also planted with the grain.

Clutter had long been credited with

- contributing much to. the growth. of

the Kansas Association of Wheat
Growers and had’ been its first presi-
dent. He also had served as president
of the national wheat growers organ-
ization. He was honored in 1953 by
President Eisenhower, who asked him
to serve on the Federal Farm Credit
Board. The unit was made up of
twelve members from the nation’s
federal land grant districts. Scheduled
to be reappointed to its membership
in 1957, Clutter had declined the
nomination.

In addition to his agricultural asso-
ciation activities—he was president of
the board of directors of the Garden
City Co-operative Equity Exchange
and a member of the Board of Con-
sumers Co-operative of Kansas City
at the time of his death—Herbert Clut-
ter also took an active interest in civic
affairs of his area.

He was chairman of his church’s
building committee and directed its
construction program; he was a mem-
ber of the church’s official board and
its pastoral committee; a booster of
the annual summer Methodist Family
Camp, which the Clutter family usu-
ally attended, and for many years a
teacher of the Hearthstone Sunday
School Class, which had been organ-
ized by his wife, herself a teacher in
the children’s department of the Sun-

day School and active in the church’s
youth program.

Their parents’ religious activities
had been followed up by their chil-
dren, too. Nancy and Kenyon both at-
tended high-school classes at the Hol-
comb school. Nancy had recently
been voted winner .of the school’s
citizenship award’ for the first six
weeks of school and, at the time of
her death, her photograph was hang-
ing in a place of honor in the school
hallway. That Monday night after the
murders, both she and Kenyon were
to have been honored for their agri-
cultural achievements at the annual
banquet of the Finney County 4-H
Club. In tribute to these two fine
youngsters, the banquet was _post-
poned.

With nothing in the Clutter family’s
background to give any reason for
murder, the investigators turned their
attention back to the robbery theory.
Again, many of the officials felt this
theory should be ruled out, since
there had been no apparent ransack-
ing of the farmhouse. And, they ar-
gued, the killer probably wouldn’t
have been just a burglar passing by
who might have decided to rob the
prosperous looking Clutter home,
since it was set back from the main
highway almost a mile on a side road.

The proponents of the robbery
theory were quick to counter this ar-
gument by pointing out that Herb
Clutter’s name and address often ap-
peared in the state’s newspapers, since
he was such a prominent figure in
agricultural -affairs in Kansas, and a
clever robber easily could assume that
such a man would keep large sums of
money around his home.

The authorities were desperate for
some lead, as was clearly shown on
Tuesday when the newspapers, radio
and TV stations carried a public ap-
peal from the lawmen for assistance.
Details of the crime were placed be-
fore the public, and any helpful sug-
gestions were asked for.

The tape used to gag the victims
was identified as a two-inch, water-
proof, white adhesive brand. The cord
used to bind them was a loosely-
woven nylon rope, which had been
tied in a combination of clove and
half-hitches. The authorities asked
that any storekeepers who recalled
any recent sales of such items contact
local officials.

One item concerning the case de-
veloped that day, but it was withheld
from the public appeal. It resulted
from a visit to the Clutter farm by the
grief-stricken daughters who survived
the massacre. They had been asked
by the officials to make a thorough
check of the house to see if they no-
ticed anything out of place or missing.
The authorities. wanted to determine
if there was any basis to the robbery
theory.

For a while, as the daughters
moved slowly through the house go-
ing over the contents of each room
carefully, it looked as though the rob-
bery motive would be washed out en-

CRIME DETECTIVE

You recei\
signal tra:
erator, rac
other valt

tirely. Howey
girls paused ii
Her gaze sw
again, and the
is mi Ii
model h
scribed “tne ri
Zenith and re
it in the boy’:
week.

The officer
clue from the
the killer pro
the radio if h
looking for it
information t
suspect with t

T° back uf
search for
son News t
$1,000 rewar
information |
solution of tt
The follov
were buried
their beloved

‘Reverend Co

works of th:
Christ were t:
disciples fron
Herb Clutter
first.”

While the ;
the streets of

CRIME DETECT!

murder rap in Texas and was driv-
ing a “hot” car, tough, sharp-
featured Ernest Hoefgen was a man

Tinsraer’ HE WAS a fugitive from a

-_who could not stand solitude. He

hankered for company as he drove
across the Kansas prairie last Sept. 18.

That was why he stopped near the
town of Peabody to give a lift to a
bespectacled young fellow who was
traveling the. “thumb route.” “Hop
in,” he said to the hitch-hiker cor-
dially.

His new companion introduced him-

58 self as Bruce Smoll, 18, a freshman

at the Kansas State College at Man-
hattan. He was going home to spend
the weekend with his parents in
Wichita. é

The youth studied Hoefgen’s face
intently. After a while, he remarked,
“Say, I think I recognize you. Sure!
You are...”

Bruce Smoll was never again seen
alive. More than three months after-
ward hunters in quest of rabbits came
across his body, clad only in shorts
and shoes, lying in a cornfield.

A few days later, acting on‘a tip,
a group of officers headed by L. P.

i olic®: wos
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Se cd bY red pe eenees
ven dog het *
gloy x0 pt rn

- pple

Ernest. Hoefgen, the confessed .

killer, is shown in custody of

Sheriff George Gephart (left).

URDER on
the LOOSE

WHEN THE COLLEGE FRESHMAN PUT
THE FINGER ON THE RUNAWAY
CON, IT SPELLED DEATH

Richter, director of the Kansas Bu-
reau of Investigation, nabbed Hoefgen
as he worked as a “horse breaker” in
the stockyards at Denver.

When the suspect’s bride was later
taken into custody, she wore a pair
of slacks that had belonged to Smoll,
according to Sheriff George Gephart
and the other investigators.

Taken back to Kansas, Hoefgen al-
legedly made a full confession, say-
ing he had shot Smoll with a .38-
caliber revolver when the youth hac
recognized him from newspaper pho-
tographs.

= a : ; ee

es ee pre

One car passed as the frightened couple
stood motionless in the shadows. Then,
with the girl keeping watch, he seized
his victim by the ankles and dragged
the body toward the railroad. tracks.

}
*

e | s (Me ~LOaTOGR ,
HOEFGEN, ernest, hanged Kansas (Marion) 3-10-19
‘ ¥ i 9

Kansas Hangs Slayer.
“In First Execution
‘There In 75 Years

2 * LANSING (Kans), March Yi cay
, With a brisk KHL, CON fLesseod Saver
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HOKFGEN, Ernest hanged Kansas(Marion) March 10, 1944

THE TALLAHASSEE DEMOCRAT, 10 March 1944, Friday, page 8.

zuecin /) Tears |

Seen fe + Cer:

SO ANOING., Kas, O—The first
: Ee ita] Punisnment

OID sae Wardéa “Mitton r Am:
five resigne! his post at the state
‘peiedh last month father thant
make arraganments for the death
penaity which he then described
@e “an evasive action unworthy

@f a civilized state.”

ment law virtually inoperative in
| $078, and abolished it in 1907. {n
1836 the state re-enacted a deat.
law

Clutter case.

ould be first.”

\ He had something big to tell officers on trip back.

MASSACRE OF THE CLUTTER FAMILY

When they reached Nancy Mae’s doorway, they saw her,
It was a brief glimpse, but one that will remain indelibly
printed in their minds. ,

_ Nancy Clutter was on her bed, her feet bound at the

ankles and her hands tied behind her back. She lay on her
side . . . facing a blood-splattered wall.

The screams of the two girls echoed through the Clutter
house as they scrambled back down the steps, through the
house and out the door.

In a state of near shock they “told Mr. ‘Ewalt what they
had seen and he ‘hurried into the house to a telephone. He
heard no buzz when he picked up the receiver, and then
noticed that the wires had been torn out. ©

He ran back to his car and drove to the Kidwell residence,
where he telephoned police in Garden City, seven miles to the
southeast.

“You wait there,” the policeman paid. “D1 get Sheriff
Robinson right out. ‘»

The Clutters were probably the best eoeiws family in Finney
County and as Sheriff Earl Robinson and Undersheriff Wendel
Meier swung off the highway and onto the side road leading

‘In chains for 1000-mile trip to Kansas.

continued

to the Clutter home, they knew that whatever publicity came
to the family. after today was something no one ever could
have anticipated or ever have wanted.

They went directly to the girl’s room, and stopped short
at the sight. Then) the sheriff went to the bed.

“There’s nothing we can do for her,” he said huskily. “We'd
better search the rest of the house.” —

They went down the hall to another bedroom and froze.

_A woman was on the bed, bound and gagged just as the

girl had. been. And there was blood on the bed, the wall
and her head. _

“Mrs, Clutter,” the sheriff said. “Shot in the head just
like her daughter.”

Sickened by what they had seen, the two men went
methodically through the other upstairs rooms, found nothing,
and went downstairs. A search of the first-floor rooms dis-
closed no signs of violence and they went on to the
basement. :

There, in the recreation room, they found a third body
on a divan at the far corner—15-year-old Kenyon, Clutter’s
only son. He too had been bound, (Continued on page 75)

Rancher and wife were active in farming and political affairs.

Hickock is taken in for questioning by officers from Finney County.

the big living room to compare observa-
tions and conclusions and reach the
common ground as to possible motive
and the pattern followed by the fiendish
killer, or killers. sai

They found themselves in agreement
on these points:

The deadly intruders had entered the
house by simply opening an unlocked
door. From the workmanlike job of
trussing, and the fact that adhesive tape
was used for gags, the murders were
committed by professional criminals.

. The cord used to bind the victims
had been cut into equal-length pieces
before the raid for the premeditated

purpose of being used as it was used.

The cord was nylon, never knotted be-
fore, three-sixteenths of an inch in di-
ameter and probably the same as that
used in the farming country to start
milo loaders. The milo (a sorghum
feed) harvest was in full swing in the
Arkansas River Valley and consequent-
ly, even though recently purchased, the
cord would be difficult to run down. —

All except the boy were clad in pa-
jamas, meaning they must have been

surprised in their sleep. In view of the
boy’s jeans and T-shirt—and bare feet—
he probably was awakened by strange
noises, dressed hurriedly and was taken
captive when he left his room to inves-

AMAZING DETECTIVE

Hickock, incidentally, had been con-
victed of stealing a shotgun, a weapon
for which he obviously had a fetish in
view of what one had done to the in-
nocent Clutters.

Armed with this new knowledge, an
all-out alert was sounded throughout
the United States for the two ex-cons,
and the manhunt for them in Kansas
was intensified.

Hickock and Smith, however, seemed
to have vanished. The home of Hick-
ock’s parents, a squalid farm on the
outskirts of Kansas City, Kansas, was
searched. In the cellar of the three-room
farm house a pair of boots with soles
of a diamond design matching that on
the cardboard in the Clutter basement
was found! This was the clincher.

HE next break didn’t come until a

few days before Christmas. The
Clutter housekeeper came to Prosecutor
West in Garden City and said that an
expensive mist gray portable TV radio
was missing from the Clutter home and
she couldn’t remember having seen it
since the day of the murders.

A description of the radio was dis-
patched to police headquarters of all
towns of any size in the U.S.A., Mexico
and Canada.

Post-haste, Agent Harold Nye, in on
Dewey’s Clutter case team from the be-
ginning, was put on a plane for La
Vegas. °

KBI detectives Dewey, Duntz and
Church, along with Sheriff Robinson,
piled in a car and also high-tailed it for
Las Vegas, taking a route through New
Mexico. A snow storm delayed them in
that state and when they arrived at their
destination, they found they were too
late to be in on the final action.

When Agent Nye arrived in the resort
city he teamed up with B. J. Handlon,
chief of the detective bureau. Then on
New Year’s Day his trained eyes spot-
ted Hickock and Smith parking a dusty
car on a downtown Las Vegas street.
He and Handlon pounced on the two
felons and threw them in jail on charges
of parole violation and bad check pass-
ing.

The two prisoners apparently be-
lieved those two charges constituted
their only trouble. They were rudely
awakened Saturday evening when they
were taken from their cell into the in-
terrogation room and were confronted
by Sheriff Robinson and KBI agents
Dewey, Nye, Church and Duntz. These
five gentlemen informed them that war-
rants for arrest on four counts of first
degree murder had been issued.

Then the questioning began—and it
lasted for five hours. Hickock termi-
nated the session by confessing that he

AMAZING DETECTIVE

and Smith had wiped out the Clutter
family. Smith, however, was a tougher
nut and met all queries with closed lips,
refusing to endorse or deny Hickock’s
admissions.

Hickock said that O’Brien’s story of
Clutter’s safe had aroused the spirit of
adventure and the lust for monetary
gain in his and Smith’s souls and they
laid plans to grab the wheat rancher’s
mythical $100,000. '

Driving west from his parents’ farm
home outside Kansas City, they’ had
reached the Clutter place under cover
of darkness. A side door to the house
was open and they merely walked in. At
the point of a shotgun, they awakened
Herb Clutter and shoved him upstairs,
where they aroused Mrs. Clutter and
Nancy. Kenyon then emerged from his
bedroom: and they added him to the
captives. They herded the four into a
bathroom, bound and gagged them with
cord prepared for such a purpose, and
began a search of the house for Clut-
ter’s legendary safe. Finding neither the

safe, nor a bundle of loose cash, they].

returned to the bathroom and carried
Nancy into her bedroom, and Mrs.
Clutter into hers.

Clutter and his son they drove before
them down into the basement. On the
way they paused to rip out two tele-
phones they had noticed while casing
the house. They missed the third in the
hall closet, however.

Once in the basement they attempted
to frighten Clutter into telling the
whereabouts of the safe and_ the
$100,000. Clutter swore he had no safe
or any free cash.

The killers then shot Kenyon in the
face. After replacing his gag, they did
the same to the elder Clutter. Then they
went upstairs and fiendishly finished off
the mother and daughter.

They had to, Hickock added, to pre-
vent identification.

Then grabbing up the portable radio
on a whim they drove south and since
the murder had wandered aimlessly,
eventually ending up in Mexico City,
where they pawned the radio. Then they
headed for Las Vegas—and capture.

The next. day Hickock formally re-
peated his confession to.a police stenog-
rapher, signed it and waived extradition
to Kansas. Smith continued adamant,
refusing to either confirm or deny Hick-
ock’s statement on the mass murders.

On Monday morning, January 4th,
two car loads of KBI men and two
chained killers started eastward. Await-
ing their arrival in Garden City were
formal charges for Hickock and Smith
on four counts of first degree murder.

As the small convoy drove through
the Rockies, word was relayed to them
that a shotgun and knife, presumably
the death weapons, had been discovered
on the farm of Hickock’s parents near
Kansas City, Kansas.

The murderous pair were tried be-
fore an all-male jury at Garden City in
late March. And, on March 29th, they
were convicted of first-degree murder
and sentenced to hang. Due to nu-
merous legal appeals, they were still

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tigate the source of disturbance.

It .was obvious the Clutters had been
trussed and gagged before they were
mercilessly massacred. They had been
executed by a heavy shotgun, probably
a .12 gauge.

Motive? That was a stickler. Cursory
examination seemed to indicate nothing
had been stolen. There was no evidence
the house had been rifled as everything
seemed to be in its place. And two wal-
lets, plus a church donation envelope
containing money had been left un-
touched, as were several pieces of jew-
elry.

But if robbery did not lay behind the
wanton murders, what did? Revenge?

Robinson and West knew the Clutters
well. They were a friendly, charitable,
good natured people and not the sort
to engender feuds or hatred. No one
had ever been heard to rail against Herb
Clutter’s success as a farmer and civic
leader. He was as natural and com-
fortable to deal with as an old shoe
despite his self-earned wealth and
prominence. Revenge, then, seemed out
of the: question. Or was it? The bru-
tality and finality of the killings all bore
the hallmarks of a vendetta.

“The only answer seems to be that
the Clutters were massacred by some-
one hunting for something and he, or
they, became infuriated when they
didn’t find it,” Robinson said.

The officers were still raking their.
heads for a possible motive when three
KBI detectives and five technicians,
loaded with cameras and other equip-
ment, parked in front of the house.

Dewey introduced his colleagues—
Clarence Duntz, Roy Church and Har-
old Nye—and the laboratory experts to
the sheriff and prosecutor, and briefed
the state team on what had gone before

and what a preliminary investigation
seemed to indicate.

“This is the biggest job we’ve ever
bumped into,” Dewey said, “and it is
maybe one of the reasons we were Or-
ganized in the first place.”

Robinson then went to call the county
coroner so that he could remove the
bodies for autopsies and personal ex-
amination once the technicians -had
taken their hundreds of pictures, finger-
prints and scoured the house inside and
out in a relentless hunt for leads.

As the day wore on, Robinson’s depu-
ties and police from Garden City and
Holcomb joined the push. News of the
awful tragedy had sped over the coun-
tryside and by mid-afternoon a crowd
of grieving friends had gathered at a
proscribed distance from the cluster of
farm buildings.

Word of the sickening calamity had
been sent to two away-from-home Clut-
ter daughters, last of the family, and
they were flying west from Southwest-
ern College and Mount Carmel, Illinois.

All Sunday, Sunday night and Mon-
day morning the bloodhounds of the
law labored questioning neighbors and
checking, checking and checking. Yet
the sharp, experienced eyes, minds and
scientific detection equipment brought
“to light little more than Robinson,
Dewey and West had found in their

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hour and a half preliminary investi-
gation.

The Clutter’s housekeeper, who had
Saturday night and Sunday off, was
brought home. She was unable to find
anything missing from the house. Close
friends of the victims also took inven-
tory and arrived at the same conclusion.
When KBI Director Sanford appeared,
drawn away from the helm of his ship
by the enormity of the crime, he ques-
tioned his detectives and technicians
and then was forced to admit. to the
press that no pertinent advance -had
been made in the direction of the cold
blooded killers.

D* ROBERT FENTON, Finney
County coroner, made one con-
tribution to the manhunt. In addition
to having been shot point-blank in the
face with a .12 gauge ‘shotgun loaded
with birdshot, he discovered that Herb
Clutter’s throat had also been cut. The
post mortem, however, had been un-
able to determine if he had been slashed
before or after being shot. This new
touch added to the unreality of the ex-
ecutions.

On the third day of the operations at
the Clutter ranch, one meager clue came
to light. A microscopic study of a
close-up photo taken of the large piece
of cardboard (a covering for a new
mattress) on which the bodies of the
father and the son had been found re-
vealed the print of a shoe sole with a
diamond design.

Samples of the cord used to truss the

‘bodies were taken to stores for miles

around but the cord was of such a
common variety that hopes for uncov-
ering its source had to be abandoned.

No enemies of the Clutters could be
found and no one in the area could re-
member having seen any suspicious
Strangers during the period just before
or after the wholesale murders.

Back in Topeka, the KBI director
long distanced Agent Dewey at Gar-
den City. Dewey, first in on the investi-
gation, had been designated co-ordi-
nator of the hunt to run the mass killers
to earth.

“Al,” Sanford said, “I think, for the
first time, that we may lick the Clutter
case. This is how it is:”

The KBI chief told his agent that a
convict by the name of Wilforce O’Brien
had asked to see him in connection with
the Finney County murders. He had a
conference with the con and O’Brien
informed him that a year or so ago he
had, in a moment of idle prison chatter,
mentioned that he had once worked for
a wheat king by name of Clutter out-
side Holcomb, Kansas. While so doing
he had heard that Clutter, an immensely

rich man, had a tin-can type of
a Safe in his office stuffed with at least
$100,000 in cash. He said he had been
told any child with a tire iron or a can
opener could crack the safe.

After telling this story he forgot about
it, but the next day two brother felons
singled him out and asked him to em-
bellish the yarn he had told the day
before. His fellow cons were ‘quite in-
sistent, so O’Brien thought it best to
do as they requested and embellish he
did. > :

He gave them all the details of the
Clutter place that he could remember—

and colder on his conscience as the
days wore on. The inhumanity of the-
cold-blooded murders was too much
even for him and he finally succumbed
to his better side and asked to see Direc-
tor Sanford. In exchange for anonymity
he spilled his suspicions. ek

Second of ex-convicts, |., refused to talk even after pal broke down.

.and some he couldn’t. Several months

later first one, and then another, of the
two interested felons were paroled.
Then one morning around the middle
of November he read about the mas-
sacre of the Clutters. Immediately he
recalled the interest the two convicts
had evinced in his hearsay story about,
Herb Clutter’s safe. Then he knew who
had done the killing. Knowing what
happens to informers in prison, he de-
cided to keep his suspicions to himself.
The heavy, cold burden of the man’s
knowledge, however, pressed heavier

was what is known as a ‘book farmer’
and conducted all his transactions: by
check.”

The crime chief said the names of
the two suspects were Richard Eugene
Hickock, 28, of Edgerton, Kansas, and
Perry Edward Smith, 31, of Elko, Ne-
vada. Both had been serving time at
Lansing for burglary. Hickock was
paroled August 13, 1959, Smith several
months earlier. Since their release they
had violated parole, passed some bad
checks and disappeared. Currently they
were being sought for return to prison.

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“Not until we were several hundred
miles west. Then I saw the suitcase
and asked Ernest where he got it. He
said some friends in Wichita had fixed
him up. That sounded logical because
he has friends there. I didn’t suspect
anything.”

“Pauline, you are in a mess and you
must tell the truth. Did you see Bruce
Smoll at any time? Did your husband
say anything about him?”

“T never saw Bruce Smoll. My hus-
band didn’t mention his name, but I
know he was running away from some-
thing. I asked him once about Bruce
Smoll and he slapped my face and told
me to keep still and mind my own
business.”

HAT was all Richter could get out of
her. The missing boy’s father and

Payne Ratner arrived in Topeka that
evening.

“Hoefgen is lying but he isn’t a man
you can break down unless you have
something definite,” Richter said. “He
knows what happened to Bruce, but
until we can find the body—

“Body,” the father repeated softly.

Richter nodded his head.

“There isn’t anything else to think
now. He didn’t take Bruce with him.
The story about finding the suitcase
along side of the road is weak. It
doesn’t stand up with the other things
we know. Give me time to work on
Hoefgen. He isn’t a man you can push
too fast. He knows he is facing life sent-
“es in Texas and you can’t frighten

m.”

Two weeks passed and the mystery
of Bruce Smoll, revived now with the
arrest and return of Hoefgen to To-
peka, remained baffling and puzzling.
Hoefgen stubbornly maintained that
he had found the suitcase alongside
the road; and Richter and his men
weren’t able to break down the story.
Would the whole case fall through?
The officers fought hard for every hit
of evidence they could get.

Then came Christmas Day. The
newspapers had dropped the story for
a lack of developments. Down near Pea-
body, Willie Hawk and his son-in-law,
Edward Kirk, were hunting in a corn-
field of the Townsend Ranch—which
is cut in two by Highway 50—the
highway to Newton and Wichita.

“Ed” Hawk suddenly cried, “Come
here quick. I found a dead man.” ~

‘His son-in-law came _ running
through the cornfield, which hadn’t
been husked yet. He saw his father-in-
law staring down at the remains of
what had once been a man. Most of
the flesh was gone and the legs were
only bones. The skeleton was wearing
only shorts. There were a pair of glasses
still on his eyes. The flesh of the face

gave me to understand.”

Johnson pondered several moments,
then grabbed the phone. He sent a
wire to the Illinois police, asking for
full information concerning the
woman. He also wanted the dope on
the known relatives of Zelle, and if
they'd ever heard of any relationship
between Zelle and Mrs. Riker.

E HAD just finished when Detective

Franco called him and asked, “Did
Zelle have an old gold watch and a
heavy gold chain?”

“Why yes,” said Johnson quickly,
recalling how the red-bearded man
had liked to toy with that chain while
talking. “I'd plumb forgot about that.
It wasn’t in his 'dobe nor on his body.”

“A young Mexican tried to pawn just
such a watch and chain yesterday.
But the pawnbroker was suspicious and
wouldn’t take it. He didn’t know the
young man, but he has a notion he’ll
come back and try again. So have I.
I’m stationing a man there to nab him
when he comes in.”

Later, Tucson plain-clothesmen lo-
cated both the places where Zelle
bought his new shoes and had his old

ones repaired.

was mostly gone.

The two hunters ran to the Town-
send Ranch House, which was across
the road. Here they phoned Sheriff
Gephart in Marion and Doctor John-
son, coroner in Peabody. Sheriff Gep-
hart phoned Richter of the discovery
of the body and then jumped in a car
and drove to the Townsend Ranch.

He found the body in the cornfield,
with Kirk and Hawk and a small crowd
around it. The location of the body
was less than a quarter of a mile from
the highway.

Doctor Johnson arrived and made a
quick examination of the body. “We
can’t tell:much out here,” he remarked.
“It is the body of a boy about eighteen
and those glasses would indicate it is
the remains of Bruce Smoll.”

The body was taken to the Sterling
Funeral home in Peabody. Richter and
Hughes arrived an hour later. The
shorts had been taken from the body
and cleaned and on them was _ the
name: “Smoll.” The eye glasses cor-
responded to the description of the
glasses Bruce Smoll was wearing. Ex-
amination showed that a bullet had en-
tered the back of the dead boy’s head.
.The bullet wasn’t found.

HE father was notified and he. and
Payne Ratner drove up to Peabody.

The father identified the glasses as
those worn by his son and when he
looked at the almost fleshless face, he
turned away.

“Bruce,” he muttered brokenly.
“That’s my son, Bruce!”

Richter and Hughes, accompanied
by Sheriff Gephart and Ollie Wight
made a record trip back to Topeka.
Ernest Hoefgen, still unconcerned
about his arrest, was brought into
Richter’s office.

“Hoefgen, you say you found the
suitcase near Peabody?” Richter said.

“That's where I found it, alongside
the road.”

“Near the Townsend Ranch?”

“I don’t know where that is, but it
was near what looked like a ranch.”

“I thought so. We just found the re-
mains of Bruce Smoll in a cornfield,
not a quarter of a mile from the high-
way. Do you still want to stick to that
story about finding the suitcase?”

Hoefgen shrugged. “I told you I
pure the suitcase, I didn’t murder the

y.”

For two hours Richter hammered
away at him, giving him lead after
lead, catching him in lie after lie, but

‘Hoefgen stubbornly held to his story.

Finally Richter got up. “If you are
fool enough to try to stick to that story,
its your funeral.”

Richter walked out of the room and
Hughes took up the questioning.

Undersheriff Johnson drove at once
to the shoe store with the old boots
found at the scene of the crime. The
dealer inspected them carefully, finally
decided they were of a different brand.

Johnson drove next to the shoe
repair shop. The old cobbler studied
the shoes a long time and shook his
head, “I cannot say whether these were
Frank’s. He might have had a pair
like that. He was in here Wednesday
and left a pair that looked something
like those.”

“Let me see them.”

fhe‘ shoemaker rummaged around on
his shelves and produced a very
worn old pair. The Undersheriff saw
at once that there was nota slit on
the top like the slash on the right one
found in the hills.

“How about the pair he was wear-
ing?” he asked alertly.

“He wore those old shoes in. I had
put new soles on another pair for him
and he put those on.”

Johnson thanked the man and hur-
ried out to find Franco.

It was a hard job because the keen
sleuth was roaming all over the Mex-
ican quarter in systematic coverage of

“You’ve got the Chief sore now,
Hoefgen. We have your wife and he
may convict her.”

Hoefgen turned angrily on Hughes.
“Pauline didn’t have anything to do
with the murder.”

“So you did it yourself?”

OEFGEN knew that his admission
was fatal. He shrugged and said:
“Yes, I did_it. I didn’t want to kill the
kid. I picked him up at the highway
junction. When he got in the car,. he
‘ said: ‘I know who you are. The police
want you. Let me out of this car.’ I
‘tried to reason with him, but he start-
ed to jump out of the car. He finally
got out and ran for that cornfield. I
lost my head and I fired at him. He
stumbled forward and I walked up to
him and fired a bullet in the back of
his head. Then I took his slacks off
and other clothes. His suitcase was in
the car. I went to Newton and ate and
then returned to McCrackens and
washed up. After that I drove into
Florence and got my wife. That’s the
whole story.”

When told of the confession, the.

father of the dead boy burst out: ‘“He’s
lying! My son never heard of Hoefgen.
He killed Bruce in cold blood!”

Richter voiced the same idea.

“Hoefgen’s story is a feeble attempt
to escape the death sentence. Bruce
must have walked the ten miles from
Marion to the junction and it was
there that Hoefgen, on his way to
Newton for something to eat, picked
him up. The murder took place almost
at once, as Bruce’s body was found less
than a quarter of a mile from the high-
way junction. Hoefgen is a _ sadist
killer. He couldn’t have suspected the
boy had much money on him. Taking
the clothes was an afterthought with
Hoefgen. He escaped the death sent-
ence in Texas after a similar murder.
This time we are going to see that he
doesn’t kill anybody else.”

Hoefgen was taken to Marion. He
told Judge R. E. Coleman that he
wanted to plead guilty. When the
Judge asked if he had a lawyer, Hoef-
gen said: “I don’t see any use, your

Honor, I wish to plead guilty and call ¢

on the mercy of the court.”

. Payne Ratner, one of the best trial
lawyers in the West, Braden Johnston,
Assistant Attorney General and Ros-
coe King, County Attorney, will repre-

sent the state. David Wheeler, Junior, -

was appointed by the court ‘to defend
Hoefgen. As we go to.press the: trial
will be held on February 9, 1944.

The names of Mr. and Mrs. Mc-
Cracken and Mr. and Mrs. Vetch are
fictitious to shield the true identity of
innocent people,

“This Shoe Must Have a Killer, Senor” (Continued trom Page 37)

every possible angle of the case. This
included discreet inquiry as to whether
any American woman, answering the.

description of Mrs. Hannah Riker, -

might have been observed recently
conversing with any of, the known
criminal element in the district.

OHNSON finally caught up with the

extremely active sleuth in a small
cantina, where he was drinking beer
and talking with the barkeeper,

“Sit down, my friend,” he said,
waving Johnson to a chair. “I will tell
you where I have arrived.” _

After ordering a drink for the
Undersheriff, he continued. “I usually
do not have much trouble in locating
the criminal when the deed is commit-
ted by a local man. My vines of
information stem from too many
sources, all through Arizona, in fact.
So, late last night I came to the con-
clusion this:crime was committed by
some visitor from Mexico.”

“But for a few dollars and a pair of
shoes and watch?”

“No,” said Franco. He called to the
bartender, “Mas cerveza.”

When the new bottles of beer
arrived, he went on. “There is a pos-

-. havea

who h

entere:
mentic
was se
aged,
Mexicz
with h
The

eden isk

apes Ses

dangerous when he was that way. He
said he was going to wash up. I went
out to get: Fred. When I came back,
Melvin was washing and the suitcase
was open.”

“What did you see in it?”

“J-I—saw a chemistry book and
an oscilator for a radio.” ©

“Chemistry book and oscilator?”

“That isn’t all. The chemistry book
was open. I saw a name written in it.

.It—it—was Bruce Smoll!”

Ts was really turning into some-
thing. First Smoll’s slacks turn up.
Now his suitcase... And both times
Greenman was connected in some way.
What did it mean? Was the boy dead?
If so, where was his body? Or per-
haps he was. still alive—kidnaped.

“I know I should have told you this
before,” Mrs. McCracken went on, “but
Melvin would have killed me. You
don’t know Melvin Greenman—”

“What is his real name?”

“J_I—don’t know. Fred got ac-
quainted with him in Cedar Point.”

“Did Greenman say where he got the
suitcase?”

“No. He said he was going on a long
trip and he would write us.”

“Has he?”

“Not yet. I don’t know where he went.
I do know that he planned to go back
and get his wife. She was in Florence.
I guess he made her go with him. He
was that type.” ;

Richter got up.

“All right, Mrs. McCracken, there

will be no charges placed against you
for helping Greenman break jail. You
and your husband can go back to your
ranch. You won’t be bothered any
more. Go in and get your husband and
you will be driven back to your ranch
and you can forget everything.”
. While Sheriff Gephart drove Mc-
Cracken and his wife home, Ollie Wight,
Sheriff Gilmore and Smoll returned to
Sheriff Gilmore’s office in Cottonwood
Falls. :

When they got in the office Sheriff
Gilmore said: “Richter, you move too
fast for me. First you arrest McCrack-
en and his wife for jail breaking. Then
you take them to Emporia. And then
suddenly you let them go.”

“T took them to Emporia to impress
them. Then when I talked to Mrs. Mc-
Cracken I learned that Greenman is
connected with the disappearance of
Bruce Smoll. I.want to trace Green-
man, and McCrackens are the only per-
sons we can do that through. Green-
man will write them and I wanted them

“pack at the ranch so he would be sure

to do that.”

§ MOLL, who had taken part in al-
most every detail of the investiga-
tion, sank back into a chair. He had
been playing a stoic part, but it was be-
coming too much for him. His eyes
were tired from lack of sleep, and his
face had grown lined, i

“Where’s my son?” he asked dazedly.
“What have they done to him?”

“Frankly, I don’t know right now,”
Richter replied. “The whole thing is
a crazy pattern of confusing facts. How
did Greenman meet your son? Why
did he take the suitcase? Greenman.
is a fugutive from justice. But why
would he. kidnap Bruce and load him-
self with a double burden? Those
questions will have to be answered
when we locate Greenman. Bulla and
Hughes are due here. I'll station them
at Cedar Point and find out where
Greenman is through the cooperation
of the Post Office Department. When
we learn that, I’ll have Greenman in
quick time.”

Twenty-four hours later the connec-

tion of Melvin Greenman with the

disappearance of Bruce Smoll took on
a sinister aspect. Sheriff Gilmore re-
ceived a telegram from Wichita Falls,
Texas, advising that Melvin Green-
man was actually Ernest Hoefgen, es-
caped murderer from the Texas State
Penitentiary at Huntsville, where he
was serving life for the slaying of
George Henry Richert of Independence,
Kansas, in October, 1938. :

“In December, 1941, he escaped from
prison, went to Wichita where: he be-

- came involved with a gang of tire

thieves. He was arrested, returned to
the State Prison and in August, 1942,
made his second escape. The name
Melvin Greenman was an alias.

A little while after the contents of
this wire had been phoned to Richter
in Topeka, where he had returned after
leaving Bulla and Hughes in Cedar
Point to watch the mails, word was
received from Sheriff Ray in Syracuse.

“No man named Greenman stopped
over here,” he told Richter on the
phone. “I traced the tourist camp
where the slacks came from. A couple
by the name of Mr. and Mrs. Charles
Vaughn ‘stayed at the camp. Owner
believes it was this couple that sent
slacks to laundry.”

“Did you get description of Vaughn
and wife?”

“Wife was a young girl, according to
the camp owner. The man was med-
ium Meight, wore a cowboy hat and
cowboy shoes. He kept out of sight
pretty much and nobody got a good
look at his face.”

A. E. Smoll had accompanied Rich-
ter back to Topeka. He was in his of-
fice when Richter got the latest in-
formation.

4 if Gagne VAUGHN and wife,”

Richter repeated, half to him-
self as he hung up. Then he spoke to
Smoll: “That was Sheriff Ray in Syra-
cuse. He says Greenman wasn’t there,
but a couple by the name of Vaughn
was at the camp where the slacks
came from.”

“Could— they be Hoefgen and his
wife?”

“That’s possible. We know that
Greenman was connected with Bruce’s
suitcase and we know now that he is
really Ernest Hoefgen, a killer. Bulla
and Hughes are watching the mail to
<a and a break may come any

lay.”

“But if that couple in Syracuse are
the ones we're looking for—then why
isn’t my boy with them? If that’s
them, then it means Bruce is—dead.
My boy never hurt anyone in his life.
Why would they do this to him? Why?”

But Richter couldn’t help the dis-
traught father.

The break that Richter was looking
for didn’t come until December 4. A
letter addressed to Fred McCracken,
posted dated Colorado Springs, and
bearing the return address of Charles
Vaughn, came through the Cedar
Point Post Office.

The information was phoned to
Richter, who got in his car, raced down
to Cedar Point, picked up Hughes and
started for Colorado Springs.

Richter and Hughes arriving in Col-
orado Springs early the next morning.
They went at once to the home of Mr.
and Mrs. Carl Vetch, who lived near
the Photographic Studio they operated.
Mrs. Vetch came to the door when
Richter rang.

“We want to see Mr. and Mrs.
Vaughn, who gave this address.”
Richter said.

“The Vaughns,” Mrs. Vetch explain-
ed, “are not here any more. Mrs.
Vaughn, whom I knew as Pauline
Fouschee, once worked for me. She
appeared several weeks ago and said
she had married. I needed help badly
and I gave her work here. It wasn’t
very satisfactory. Her husband stole
the gun from our house and we have
reason to feel that he stole other
things. They left four days ago.”

“Do you know where they went?”

41TO DENVER. I don’t know their

address as the letter told me to
address her general delivery. She wrote
me promising her husband would re-
turn the gun.”

“Did the letter intimate what she and
her husband were doing or where they
worked?”

“yes, Pauline did say that her hus-
band was breaking horses or something
like that. I got the idea he was at
the stock yards.”

Richter and Hughes left the house.

and three hours later were in Den-
ver. Richter got in touch with the
postal inspector and requested aid
from him in trapping Hoefgen, The
postal inspector agreed to have a regis-

tered letter notice sent to Hoefgen.

The next morning at nine o’clock
Richter and Hughes stood in the post
office, waiting for Hoefgen to appear
for the registered letter. The notice
had been picked up by his wife late
the night before.

Would he come? And would the
mystery of the missing boy be solved?

An hour passed and Hoefgen didn’t
appear. The inspector came out to
where Richter was standing.

“We just got a phone call from
Hoefgen and he said he couldn’t come
today because he was working at the

-stock yards.”

Richter and Hughes didn’t wait.
They drove to the stock yards, contact-
ed the superintendent.

'HE two officials followed the super-

intendent across the stock yards to

a corral where a number of horses were
being saddled for their first rides.

The superintendent pointed to a
man in cowboy hat and boots. His
back was to Richter and Hughes.

“That’s your man.” :

Richter walked up to Hoefgen, his
hand on his service gun, ready for fast
action if Hoefgen wanted to shoot it

out.

“All right Hoefgen,” Richter said in
a quiet voice, “you're going back to
Kansas with us.”

Ernest Hoefgen turned slowly, looked
at Richter and made no move for his
gun. Handcuffs clicked as Richter
grabbed his wrists.

He’ proved an agreeable, willing
prisoner. He directed the officers to
where he and his wife lived. His wife
was in the room, a pale and very
frightened girl. She was wearing
slacks.

Richter said to her: “You are wear-
ing Bruce Smoll’s slacks.”

In a dull voice, she answered: ‘His
name is on them. That is all I know
about it.” i

Hoefgen readily signed a waiver of
extradition to return Kansas.
Richter said nothing to him about the
disappearance of Btuce Smoll until
Hoefgen and his wife were in Richter’s
office in Topeka.

“Bruce Smoll?” Hoefgen repeated.
“I never heard anything about that
name until I saw it on the slacks I found
in a suitcase along the road near Pea-
body. That was on the night of Sep-
tember eighteenth. I remember that
night well. I had escaped from jail in
Cottonwood Falls and had been hid-
ing out in the Flint Hills. That after-
noon I slept in the car I had stolen in
Windfield after my break, the one we
drove to Colorado in. I was looking
for Pauline. I wanted her to go away
with me.”

“How did you happen to get near |

Peabody?”

Mu | ’"M COMING to that. I was too hot

to appear in Florence or even Pea-
body, so I drove over to Hewton to eat
at'a restaurant where I wasn’t known.
I found the suitcase along the road
when I drove over there. I ate and
returned to Florence, willing to take a
chance to see Pauline. I found her on
a side street and made her come with
me. That’s the whole story.”

“Except a few important details.
Your trip to the McCracken ranch to
wash up.”

“Oh yes, I did go there, but that isn’t
important.”

“What did you do with Bruce Smoll?”

“I told you I never saw the boy.”

Richter didn’t like the way things
were going. Was Hoefgen telling the
truth? Did he really find the suitcase?
If so—then where was young Smoll?
But the officer was far from sure that
Hoefgen wasn’t lying. Still, he didn’t
push the questioning.

He called Hoefgen’s wife into
another room. She was willing and
ready to talk.

“TI didn’t want to go with my hus-
band,” she told him nervously. “I went
to Florence with my parents. I was
through with him. But he forced me
in the car and said he would kill me if
I didn’t go with him. I was afraid of
him and I went.”

“When did you first learn about the
suitcase?”

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' Leslie Gomez

1 pistol bullets rid-
frame.

1ed to the bedroom,
iwers in the bureau
znt into an adjacent
drew open drawers
to shut them when

most as suddenly as

r on Saturday mor-
ill alerted the Wyan-
riffs office to the
se on Wolcott Drive
enant Ralph Athey
.¢ with three patrol-
iey, Crafton Girlen,
to find a hulking
on a chair in the
house.

uuble here?” Athey

smoothed the back
dog, then gestured
door leading from
kitchen. Athey put
door. but was un-
he patrolmen added

POLICE FILES

Psychiatrists were puzzled by this youth.

Bloodstains highlighted grim story.

their beef to the effort and the door
swung open slowly. The leg of a man
came into view.

In a minute they had the door com-
pletely open and could see the bullet
riddled corpse of William Andrews.

Athey swung around to the big
young man, who had entered behind
them, holding the tiny dog in his arms.

“What happened here?” the lieu-
tenant demanded.

Lowell Lee Andrews, 18, shrugged
ponderous shoulders and. peered calm-
ly at the detective through horn-rim-
med glasses. He seemed the complete

. master of his emotions. “I would guess

it might be burglary. I noticed a screen
POLICE FILES

Bullets came from door of this room.

was off one bedroom window and the
window ‘was still open. We’ve been
robbed before. Twice.”

Lieutenant Athey hurried on into the
living room. Before the television set
he saw the bloodstained body of 41-
year-old Opal Andrews. Against a far
wall lay the pathetic figure of young
and lovely Jennie.

“They’re all dead!”
“They’ve been murdered!”

Lowell Andrews paled a bit at this
news, then rallied bravely. “They must
have surprised the burglar,” he sug-
gested.

Hurrying into the bedrooms near the
living room, the lieutenant noticed the

Athey © said.

Mrs. Opal Andrews was one of three victims of a madman’s bullets.

opened drawers in the dresser and chests
of both rooms. He checked the window
of one bedroom and found it open
more than a foot, with the screen hav-
ing been removed from the outside.

“Looks like B and E-—break and
entry,” he told Patrolman Hackney.
“Better radio back to the sheriff’s office
and have a full crew sent out here—
coroner’s men, photographers, finger-
print experts.”

As Hackney departed on this errand,
the lieutenant turned to the ‘beefy
young man with the little dog. ‘“Sup-
pose you tell me what you know?”

“Well, I had supper with the family
last night then decided to drive back
to Lawrence—I go to the University of
Kansas—and pick up my typewriter. |
had an English theme to do over the
week-end and needed the machine,”
Lowell Lee Andrews said. “I used my
father’s car. After I got the machine,
I decided to stay in Lawrence and take
in a movie, as long as I was there. I
did, and then drove home-—to find this.”

“Did you speak to anyone while in
Lawrence?” Athey asked.

“Sure. The kid who rooms across
the hall. He’s a college student too.
We discussed the weather.”

“The weather,” Athey repeated.
“Pretty rough night to be driving all the
way to Lawrence just for a typewriter.”

“It was rough,” young Andrews
agreed. The snow held me up plenty,
that’s why I was so late getting home.
Usually takes me maybe fifty minutes
for the trip. This time it took about
two hours each way. Lousy night.”

The arrival of other officials from
the sheriff’s and coroner’s offices post-
poned this interrogation of the young
college sophomore. The official photo-

(Continued on page 64)

Jennie Andrews was watching television when death came into the room.

Everything was peaceful in the idyllic setting when the high score
killer entered the scene with his deadly rifle
and blasted three people to death

‘CANE WON 1

* THE TELEVISION picture was
too fuzzy, so Mrs. Opal Andrews
walked over to the TV set in her
Wyandotte County, Kansas, modern
stone farmhouse and turned the dials
to bring the black-and-white images
into better focus, Her handsome hus-
band, 50-year-old William L. An-
drews, an airline mechanic who was
out on strike at the time, watched his
wife’s efforts from his over-size lounge
chair. Jennie Andrews, their 20-year-
old, brown-haired daughter, a student
at Oklahoma Baptist University in
Shawnee, was also in the living room
with them. Jennie was home from the

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nearby institution of learning to spend
the Thanksgiving holidays.

The first rifle blast came from the
doorway of.a bedroom just off the
living room at about seven P.M., Friday,
November 28th, 1958. It struck Opal
as she crouched in front of the set
and knocked her off her feet. The gun
roared again, sending more slugs to-
ward Opal, and then pretty Jennie stag-
gered, dashed toward one wall, struck
it blindly and fell. Big Bill Andrews
raised himself from the chair but was
hit by several bullets before he could
flee from the room into the kitchen.

The gunman jumped after Andrews,
tossing aside the rifle, which was now
empty, and drawing a heavier caliber-
er Luger automatic pistol from his
waistband. This pistol was rapidly
emptied into the big mechanic as he
made for the kitchen door and safety.

_Andrews crashed to the floor—with

by Leslie Gomez

seventeen rifle and pistol bullets rid-
dling his muscular frame.

The killer returned to the bedroom,
opened several drawers in the bureau
and chest, then went into an adjacent
room, where he drew open drawers
and didn’t bother to shut them when
he was finished.

He was gone almost as suddenly as
he’d appeared.

At an early hour on Saturday mor-
ning a telephone call alerted the Wyan-
dotte County sheriff’s office to the
disaster at the house on Wolcott Drive
in Wolcott. Lieutenant Ralph Athey
hurried to the scene with three patrol-
men, Kastle- Hackney, Crafton Girlen,
and Allen Myers, to find a hulking
young man sitting on a chair in the
front porch of the house.

“What’s the trouble here?” Athey
asked urgently.

The big youth smoothed the back
fur of a Pekingese dog, then gestured
mutely toward the door leading from
the porch into the kitchen. Athey put
his shoulder to the door, but was un-
able to budge it. The patrolmen added

Psychiatrists wei

,
Bloodstains hi

their beef to th
swung open slov
came into view.

In a minute tl
pletely open an
riddled corpse o

Athey swung
young man, wh
them, holding th

“What happe
tenant demanded

Lowell Lee A
ponderous shoul
ly at the detect
med glasses. He
master of his er
it might be burg!

POLICE FILES i POLICE FILES
|

1G 6 3 Zs, Pe

T Songdes Rapcee eS fi wy eee!

ing Perry Smith.

The week before Christmas KBI Agent
Dewey sent four of his agents to Finney
County with mug shots of. Richard
Hickock and Perry Smith,-to learn if
anyone had seen the pair around the
Garden City-Holcomb area around the
time of the Clutter murders.

Dewey then called Warden Hand at the
Lansing prison and asked him to develop
any information he could about his former
charges. They might come up with some
lead from prison rumor or scuttlebutt.

For Agent Nye, Dewey had a special
assignment. He ordered Nye to take a few
dozen mug shots of the wanted men and set
out on a tour of sheriffs’ offices and police
departments throughout the Southwest—
the Texas Panhandle, New Mexico,
Arizona, Nevada and Southern California.
“T’ve noticed,” Dewey said, “that when a
crook’s on the lam during the winter, he
generally heads for a warm climate.”

Dewey’s first “feeler” operation
brought results on December 28th when
Agent Roy Church reported that he had
found a threshing machine operator who
was sure he had seen Richard Hickock in
Garden City on November 14th, the day
before the murders. Garden City is eight
miles from the Clutter farm. The infor-
mant said he knew Hickock personally
and could not be mistaken.

“I recall it,” he told Agent Church,
“because it was on the Saturday before the
Clutters were killed. Hickock was with
another guy. Both had been drinking.”

Agent Church showed the man a pic-
ture of Smith but he could not make a
positive identification. He had only talked
to Hickock for a few moments, he said, and
he had not paid much attention to his
companion.

Though Agent Dewey’s hunch was now

stronger that the missing ex-felons were.

involved in the Holcomb murders, he was
aware that there was nothing in the

' records of MO’s of the fugitives to suggest

they were killers. The circumstantial
evidence against the pair, however, was
building too strongly to be dismissed.
Dewey would not be satisfied until he’d
had achance to put the two men on the grill
about their activities around the time of
the family slaughter.

“After all,” he said grimly to Sheriff
Robinson, “these punks walk before they
run. They start in the small time, then get
ambitious. There’s nothing in the book
that says they can’t graduate from larceny
to homicide.”

The next day another link was forged in
the chain of circumstantial evidence, when
Dewey received a letter from Warden
Hand. Acting on Dewey’s request, the
warden had instructed his men to turn up

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any information they «-uld find about
Hickock and Smith. In his letter Warden
Hand said information that appeared to be
pertinent had been obtained from a convict
whose identity was to remain closely
guarded. If his identity were to become
‘known, it might cost him his life.

According to the information relayed
by the warden, this anonymous con had
once worked on the Clutter farm. Since the
murders there, he had become increasingly
conscience-stricken and felt that indirect-
ly, he might be responsible. He had had a
casual friendship with Hickock and Smith
during the time they were inmates at the
prison. He said that “just shooting the
breeze one time,” he had told them of
Clutter’s reputed wealth and expressed the
opinion that Clutter was in the habit of
keeping large sums of cash around the
place. He admitted now that he didn’t
really know if this was true or not.

Had Hickock and Smith taken him
seriously and acted on the information?
The tipster feared they had. Sodid Warden
Hand. So did Agent Dewey.

Unfortunately, none of the three had
any idea where the fugitive pair of
suspected killers might be found.

Unknown to Agent Dewey, however,
his long frustrated pursuit was rapidly
approaching a climax. At just about the
time he finished reading Warden Hand’s
letter, 1,000 miles away, in Las Vegas,
Nevada, a veteran detective enjoying his
day off was about to find it would becomea
busman’s holiday.

He was Lieutenant B. J. Handlon, an
officer with an outstanding record and one
of those individuals reputed to have an
unerring memory and a “camera-eye”
which never forgot a face.

Walking along a sunny street in Las
Vegas some five blocks from his home,
Handlon’s eye was drawn to a late model
sedan. What caught his attention was the
Iowa license plates. The license numbers
rang a bell, as did the Iowa license. Paus-
ing for a better look at the men in the car,
another bell rang in the lieutenant’s mind
and he forgot all about his day off.

Drawing his service pistol and walking
up to the Iowa car with his shield in his
other hand, he said, “All right, boys, let’s
not have any trouble. I’m taking you to
headquarters.”

The older of the two men in the car, who
sat at the wheel, scowled and said, “What
do you want from us? We ain’t done
nothing.”

“Maybe so, but I doubt it,” retorted
Lieutenant Handlon. “For starters, you’re
sitting in a car that was stolen in Grant
City, Iowa, on December 14th. One of you
is named Hickock, the other Smith. You’re
wanted in Kansas for parole violation,
both of you. Now get out of that car with
your hands up.”

The astonishment was clear on the
faces of both men, but they did as they were
told, taking no chances with the
businesslike detective who seemed to know
so much about them and who handled his
pistol like he was born with it in his hand.

“Spread your legs and put your hands
on the roof,” Handlon snanned. When they
did so he gave them an exyert frisk, found
they were unarmed, and then, with the aid
of a passing radio car patrolman, took
them to headquarters. After locking up the

prisoners, he notified the KBI by
telephone.

On January 2nd, after making the
1,000-mile trip in two cars which were
delayed enroute by a severe blizzard,
Agent Dewey, Sheriff Robinson, and KBI
Agents Nye, Duntz and Church arrived in
Las Vegas. Lieutenant Handlon advised
them that the suspects had been uncom-
municative. when questioned about the

, Clutter massacre, but had indicated they

would waive extradition and return to
Kansas to face parole violation charges.

The Kansas officers questioned the
men separately. Each man flatly denied
being anywhere near Holcomb at the time
of the Clutter killings. During the break in
the questioning, it was decided to concen-
trate the interrogation efforts on Hickock,
who though toughly defiant, seemed the
weaker of the two.

Agents Dewey and Duntz, Sheriff
Robinson and Lieutenant Handlon con-
ducted most of the questioning. As the
hours passed, Hickock’s answers became
less and less positive, his evasions more

and more confused. Obvious discrepancies °

began to appear in his story. At seven
o’clock on the evening of January 3rd, he
began to sob, What happened then, accor-
ding to the detectives, went as follows:

“All right,” Hickock said, “I was mixed
up in it. Smith and I planned for a long
time to rob Clutter, ever since we heard
how rich he was from another con in the
pen at Lansing.” .

He and Smith had entered the Clutter
farmhouse at one a.m. on that fateful
Sunday, he said. They had found the front
door unlocked. They walked into a
bedroom on the ground floor and found
Herbert Clutter asleep there.

“We thought there was a safe in the
house,” Hickock said. “So we took Clutter
upstairs. We roused his wife and the two
kids and locked them in the bathroom. But
we couldn’t find a safe anywhere at all.”

Annoyed by his failure, they took Mr.
Clutter and his son to the basement and
bound and gagged them with cord and
cloth they had brought with them. Clutter
was shot first, then his throat was cut. The
boy, 15-year-old Kenyon Clutter, died next.

The ex-cons then released Mrs. Clutter
and her daughter from the bathroom. Each
was securely tied and gagged and placed
on her own bed. Then each of the women
was shot to death.

The murder weapon was a shotgun,
Hickock said, but he either could not or
would not reveal its present whereabouts.

Why had they felt it necessary to exter-
minate the whole family in the course of an
attempted robbery?

“Well,” the officers quoted Hickock,
“we just didn’t want any witnesses.”

According to the interrogating officers,
Smith and Hickock stayed in Finney
County a few more days and passed a
couple of bad checks. Then they headed
north in Hickock’s car. They later aban-
doned it in Iowa. Soon afterwards, they
stole the sedan, in Grant City, in which
Lieutenant Handlon had apprehended
them. But before their capture, Hickock
revealed, they had done a great deal of
traveling. He claimed they had been to
Mexico City, among other places. That
was where they had pawned Nancy
Clutter’s portable radio.

At the re
recorded his :
the blame or
present pre
Hickock, it w:
the actual kil
into the who!

At this po
said. Lieuten
him as he w:

Then Smi
terrogation r
his involven
The tough lit:
coolly and ¢
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anything, eit

Lieutenan
recorder and
fessiorn = =Sn
“That,” he s
says. I just d

Further a:

The long
next morni:
Hickock rod:
Nye and Ch
Smith rode i
and Duntz.
tained an at

“unconcern. |
question hin
his answers
vant or non:

But a cha
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as they drov:
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something, t!
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everything H

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For a lo
reporters, Sr
staring out at
suddenly, wit
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Now a to
him, as if
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Hickock had
tant differen
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the major pa
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The “lous
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shotgun,
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—
ike

At the request of officials, Hickock

_ recorded his confession on tape, putting

the blame on Smith, they said, for his
present predicament. According to
Hickock, it was Smith who had committed
the actual killings. Smith had talked him
into the whole idea of the robbery.

At this point, Hickock fainted, officers
said. Lieutenant Handlon had to support
him as he was taken back to his cell.

Then Smith was brought into the in-
terrogation room and asked again about
his involvement in the Clutter killings.
The tough little ex-con eyed his questioners
coolly and said, “I won't exactly deny
anything. But I’m not going to admit
anything, either.”

Lieutenant Handlon switched on the
recorder and played back Hickock’s con-
fession Smith seemed unimpressed.
“That,” he said impassively, “is what he
says. I just don’t go along with it.”

Further questioning proved to be futile.

The long trip back to Kansas began
next morning, Monday, January 4th.
Hickock rode in the lead car with Agents
Nye and Church and Sheriff Robinson.
Smith rode in the second car with Dewey
and Duntz. For several hours he main-
tained an attitude of forced gaiety and
unconcern. Dewey and Duntz attempted to
question him about the Clutter case, but
his answers were vague, evasive, irrele-
vant or noncommittal. ;

But a change came over the tough little
Smith on the second afternoon of the trip
as they drove through southern Colorado.
He exhibited signs of extreme ner-
vousness. He twisted a grimy
handkerchief in his fingers. He licked his
lips. Several times he seemed about to say
something, then thought better of it. Final-
ly-he said, “You guys don’t want to believe
everything Hickock told you.”

“All right,” Agent Dewey said evenly.
“Suppose you put us straight.”

For a long time, Dewey later told
reporters, Smith said nothing, just sat
staring out at the passing landscape. Then
suddenly, without warning, he said, “I was
in it with him, all right. Butit was his idea,
not mine.”

Now a torrent of words gushed from
him, as if someone had opened the
floodgates. The story Smith now told was
in all respects the same as that which
Hickock had told earlier, with one impor-
tant difference: Hickock had placed all the
blame on Smith; Smith put the blame for
the major part of the horrible crime on
Hickock. Ge

“Tt was a crazy thing to do,” the officers
quoted Smith. “All we got was that lousy
radio. We figured that dead men tell no
tales. I reckon we figured wrong.”

The “lousy radio” which belonged to
pretty Nancy Clutter was located in Mex-
ico City by an FBI agent who had been
sent there to attempt to find it. By that
time, January 6th, the two murder
suspects were safely locked up in the
Finney County Jail in Garden City, Kan-
sas.

County Attorney Duane West filed .a
single complaint listing all four homicides
and charging Smith and Hickock with
first degree murder. On January 7th, they
were arraigned before. Judge M. C.
Schrader of the county court. Judge
Schrader ordered both men held without

bail for action by the Finney County grand
jury. They were officially charged with
murder in the first degree.

On that same day, officials announced,
a search of a farm owned by a relative of
Hickock about two miles from Edgerton,
Kansas, was made by KBI agents. They
said they found there a pair of boots whose
soles had a distinctive diamond-shaped
tread, later found to match precisely the
markings found in the dust on the mattress
carton on which Herbert Clutter’s slain
body was found. Also found on the farm,
agents said, were a shotgun, a box of shells
and a knife said to be owned by Richard
Hickock. These items reportedly were
found in the barn on the property.

County Attorney West promised to
make every effort to bring the accused men
to trial at the earliest possible date. He was
as good as his word. In mid-March, a little
more than two months after they were
arrested in Las Vegas, Richard Hickock
and Perry Smith were brought into county
court in Garden City to answer to the
State’s charge of killing four members of
one of Kansas’ most prominent families.
Judge Roland Tate presided. Prosecutor
Logan Green spearheaded the State’s case.

The courtroom was jammed with spec-
tators, and so widespread was the interest
in the case that special arrangements were
made to accommodate the large turnout of
the press to cover tk proceedings.

The highlight of the trial was testimony
which showed that pretty, 16-year-old
Nancy Clutter was begging for her life at
the moment a shotgun blast was fired into
her head.

Court-appointed attorneys for both of
the defendants asked mercy for their
clients, a request referred to pointedly by
the prosecutor in his summation.

“] wish these two men [the defense
attorneys] had been present November
15th to make a plea for mercy for Nancy
Clutter,” the prosecutor said to the jury
dramatically. “I dare say there would’ve
been six bodies found instead of four.”

The case went to the jury on March 29,
1960, and the issue was not long in doubt.
The all-male jury took less than two hours
to return with a guilty verdict, and their
decree that Richard Eugene Hickock and
Perry Edward Smith should be “hanged by
the neck until dead.”

The inevitable series of appeals follow-
ed, however, and delay after delay, kept the
convicted killers from keeping their court-
ordained date with the hangman.

But finally all legal maneuvers had
been exhausted and the last of the last-
minute reprieves had been granted. On
April 14, 1965, Perry Smith, 36, and
Richard Hickock, 33, went to their death on
the gallows at the Kansas Penitentiary in
Lansing, Kansas. ooo

EDITOR’S NOTE:

Edward Rooks, Judy Rooks, Diane
Cowley, and Gerhard Brenner are not
the real names of the persons so named
in the foregoing story. Fictitious names
have been used because there is no
reason for public interest in the iden-

tities of these persons.

The Rapist Who
Drowned His Victim
(Continued from page 40)

party on September 18th and that either
Debbie, Tacie, or Gwen had visited them
on that night.

Although it seemed that days had pass:
ed since the investigation had begun, it
had only been one eight hour shift. Bernie
Miller and Roy Moran, working the night
shift in Homicide, took over the continuing
probe.

They interviewed Gwen’s mother. The
Indian woman found it hard to believe that
Gwen had run away during the night of
September 18th.

“She’s—was—afraid of the dark. If she
woke up at night, she wouldn’t even go to
the bathroom alone. She woke one of her
sisters to go with her. She wouldn’t go to
the store slone after dark . . fe!

The mother said a friend had told her
that she’d seem the older girls going into
the before mentioned boys’ apartment, but
that she wasn’t sure they’d been there the
night they vanished. Debbie had run away

once before, she said, but Gwen never had,

nor had she given any indication that

she’d even thought about it.

Pictures of Debbie and Tacie James
were obtained, school pictures with terms
of endearment scrawled across the upper
corners and signed with the girls’ names,
and utilized to make up fliers to be sent

throughout the northwest. Teletypes were

sent to the 13 Western states and Canada,

regarding Gwen’s murder and the dis-
appearance of Debbie and Tacie. Local
news media gave full play to the story of
the missing girls.

Dr. Wilson’s tests continued. His fin-
dings of forcible rape were confirmed; the
drowned child’s hymen was ruptured. The
fact that there was no semen found in the
vagina could be accounted for by her
immersion in water, or by the possibility -
that the rapist had not reached a climax.

The private security police who
patrolled the Sagstad Marina and
neighboring businesses polled all their
patrolmen and found that none of them
had noticed anything unusual on the night
of September 22nd. However, their patrols
were sporadic, and it was entirely possible
that someone could have dumped Gwen’s
body into the bay during the time between
their checks on the property.

And now the deluge of information
from the public began. More than 50
citizens called homicide headquarters over
the next three days. They had seen a dark-
haired teenager and a blonde-haired
teenager here and they had seen them
there.

A truck driver from Packwood a hun-
dred miles south of Seattle said that he saw
Debbie and Tacie southbound on the
freeway Interstate 5 headed toward White
Pass at Mossy Rock. Detectives called the
Washington State Patrol and asked them
to intercept the duo. But, by the time the
trooper reached the spot cited, the girls
were gone.

Calls came in from Des Moines,
rem Bit from Bellevue, from Lake
ity.

AUGHTERO

The wealthy farmer's house in Holcomb, Kansas, was quiet that mor:

SOUND-PROOF room is no quieter than a Sun-
A day morning in rural Kansas. At 9:30 a.m.
November 15, 1959, the sedan driven by Clar-
ence Kidwell was the only vehicle on the lonely
road, paralleling the Arkansas River, just outside
Holcomb in Finney County. In the car with Kidwell
were his teenage daughter, Susan, and her friend,
Nancy Ewalt. The group was headed for the show-
place farm of Herbert Clutter, situated some 7 miles
west of the county seat of Garden City.

In an area of solid, respectable citizens, Herbert Clutter,
48, was the solidest and most respectable of them all. He
was the biggest wheat grower and the most prominent man
in the entire region. He was chairman of the Kansas Con-
ference of Farm Organizations and Cooperatives. Under
the first Eisenhower administration he had been a member
of the federal Farm Credit Board. He was an industrious
civic leader, a devout Methodist who recently had been
instrumental in the erection of a new brick church.

Every Sunday it was Herbert Clutter’s custom to drive
young Susan Kidwell and Nancy Ewalt to church, along
with the two Clutter teenagers, Nancy and Kenyon. Now,
on this bright autumn Sunday morning, Clarence Kidwell
was transporting the two girls to the Clutter farm.

Kidwell halted his car in the Clutter driveway. The girls
ran up on the porch and knocked at the front door. There

was no answer. Kidwell and the girls thought this very
odd. They knew the Clutters were early risers and would
have considered being in bed at this hour almost decadent
Susan Kidwell turned the knob and found the door was
unlocked.

“Go ahead in,’ called her father. “See where everyone
is. I'll] wait here.”

Susan and Nancy Ewalt entered the spacious hall. They
were aware of an utter and ominous silence. The living
room and kitchen were empty. So was the customarily
filled coffee pot on the stove. The children looked at each
other, shrugged, then mounted the stairs to the second
floor and the bedrooms.

An instant later Clarence Kidwell heard the screams of
the girls, shrill with terror. He sprang from the car and
ran into the house as they came tumbling down the stair-
case. “What is it?” he cried. ‘‘What’s wrong?”

Susan Kidwell was beyond speech. Nancy Ewalt man
aged to stutter, “In the bedroom—Nancy Clutter—she’s—
she’s dead! She’s been killed!”

Kidwell charged up the stairs. Pretty 16-year-old Nancy
Clutter lay face down on her bed, clad in a bathrobe and
a pair of pajamas. Her hands were tied behind her back
Her ankles were knotted together. Her dark hair was
matted with blood and there was an ugly hole in the back
of her head.

Kidwell descended the stairs even faster than he had

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mounted them. He snatched up the telephone in the living
room, Then he saw the loose, dangling cord: and knew that
the wire had been cut. He ran out of the house to his car
where his daughter and Nancy Ewalt now stood, still numb
with shock. “Get in,” he told them. “Quick.”

He spun the car out of the driveway and headed for the
house of Alfred Stoecklein, an employe of Clutter, who
lived some 500 yards from the main residence. There Kid-
well used the telephone to call Sheriff Earl Robinson in
Garden City. Robinson, two deputies, and Dr. Robert Fen-
ton, the Finney County coroner, arrived on the scene within
20 minutes.

Kidwell, waiting for them outside the house, told them,
“Young Nancy Clutter has been shot. She’s tied up in her
bedroom. The rest of the family’s not here.”

The sheriff nodded and, followed by the coroner and the
deputies, strode into the silent house and up the stairs to
the room indicated by Kidwell. The sheriff took his pocket-
knife and slashed the cord which bound the dead girl’s
wrists and ankles.

Then Dr. Fenton bent over the body. “The bullet prob-
ably lodged in her brain,” he said. “She must have died
instantly.”

“When?”

“It’s hard to say. I’d guess some time between midnight
and 2 o’clock this morning.”

‘Tet’s look around,” said the sheriff. “Let’s see if we

Upstairs in their bedrooms Mrs. Clutter and daughter Nancy each died from a shot in the head, as did Kenyon, found in basement

ON SUNDAY

that morning ... too quiet. Its four occupants were dead

BY JACK D’ARCY

can find the rest of the family around here somewhere.”

That task proved grimly simple. Sheriff Robinson found
45-year-old Mrs. Bonnie Clutter in the bedroom next to
that of her daughter. She too was lying in a bloodstained
bed, wearing only pajamas. An ugly bullet hole gaped in
the right side of her head.

As the sheriff stared incredulously at the second murder
victim, a bleak thought came into his mind. If Mrs. Clutter
and Nancy were dead, where were Herbert Clutter and his
15-year-old son, Kenyon? He went into the hall, opened
the other bedroom doors. To his relief they were empty.

He raced down the stairs and thoroughly searched the
ground floor of the house. He found neither bodies nor any
sign of robbery or struggle. He descended the kitchen
stairs to the basement. There he found the male members
of the Clutter family, in the recreation room.

Herbert Clutter lay, face down, on a cardboard mattress
cover on the floor; his ankles and hands were bound, and
a gag was stuffed into his mouth. Kenyon, like his father,
was bound and gagged. He had been shot in the back of
the head. Herbert Clutter appeared to have received two
shotgun blasts full in the face. In addition, his throat had
been cut.

Sheriff Robinson hurried back up the stairs. ‘“We’re go-
ing to need all the help we can get,” he said. Turning to
one of his deputies, he added, “Go back to Garden City.
Tell the county attorney what’s happened. Then call the

——

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shirt was bloodstained. She washed it
out and gave it to her nephew.”

Allen recovered the garments. The
dark stains still showed faintly, though
the shirt had been washed several times.
He sent both shirt and trousers to the
state crime laboratory at Austin and con-
tinued his journey.

At San Antonio, he had better luck.
Sylvia Phipps immediately located the
pawnshop where the watch had been left.
Records of the store showed it had been
pawned Oct. 11, 1938, and placed in stock
for resale Oct. 28, 1939. At the grocery
where the jacket had been traded for gro-
ceries, the Mexican proprietor remem-
bered the transaction and identified Miss
Phipps.

“We’re ready for Hoefgen now,” Allen
told the district attorney.

Extradition proceedings were prepared
and the sheriff with Assistant District
Attorney Clyde C. Fillmore, drove to
Nebraska. An amazing situation con-
fronted them. Under Nebraska laws,
Hoefgen would have to request a pardon
from his prison sentence there before ex-
tradition could be granted.

“Do you mean to tell me,” Sheriff Allen
asked, “that I’m to ask this man to seek
a pardon from a six-year term, so he can
go back to Texas and take a chance on
the electric chair?”

“That’s right,” the officials said.

“If that’s what it takes, that’s what
we'll do,” Allen agreed.

The sheriff confronted Hoefgen with
the evidence against him. The 27-year-
old prisoner appeared calm as he listened.
“You've got the goods on me, Sheriff,” he
said slowly. “I killed him.”

In the presence of the chaplain, Deputy
Warden Allen and Fillmore, Hoefgen
dictated a statement which paralleled the
story told by Sylvia Phipps. When asked
why he committed the murder, Hoefgen
said: “I was upset because Miss Phipps

was ill and I wanted to get her back to
San Antonio where she had relatives.
I take the sole responsibility for the slay-
ing. Why did I do it? That's something
I can’t understand. The ax was lying on
the floor back of the front seat, and I just
grabbed it and let go.’

Hoefgen told how he dragged the vic-
tim from the car, then noted an approach-
ing automobile. He quickly backed the
Ford over Richet until the car passed.
When he pulled away, he said, Richet sat
up, so he ran over him again, then
dragged him across the railroad and
struck him again.

On July 10, 1940, Hoefgen appeared be-
fore the Nebraska pardon board and asked
them to commute his six-year sentence
so he could go back to Texas. He knew
he would be returned eventually and
seemed anxious to get it over with. As
soon as permission was granted, he was
returned to Wichita Falls.

On the long trip back to Texas, the
prisoner assumed a repentant air and
claimed he had “got religion.” But once
lodged in the Wichita Falls jail, he be-
came a cursing, snarling trouble-maker.
He made several daring attempts to es-
cape by crouching against his cell door
and springing on the jailer when meals
were brought to him.

On Sept. 9, 1940, he went to trial in
the 89th District court before Judge
Ernest Robertson. He entered a plea of
guilty and on Sept. 12 was sentenced to
life imprisonment at Huntsville.

Because of her assistance to the state
and because Hoefgen took full blame, no
charges were placed against Sylvia
Phipps. However, she was returned to
the Nebraska reformatory to complete
her term.

(To protect the identity of innocent persons the
names John Melton and Carl Smith are not real but
fictitious. —Ed,

Gunmen’s Gamble
[Continued from page 29]

however, and no one proved of any as-
sistance. All were given a clean bill of
health.

Days went by and still the message to
the sheriff from his deputies offered noth-
ing in the way of encouragement. Dr.
Gurganus had not returned and life at the
camp went on much as before the fatal
holdup. There were no noticeable changes
among the population, no rumors to
cause comment, and the mystery of the
man with the wounded arm still remained
unsolved.

Everybody seemed anxious to forget
the tragedy, even Tom Gant, who had
given up his work as engineer. He had no
stomach for the job after his friend, Will
Turner was killed, he said. He did not
think he ought to handle that train any
more, because if the bandits should try
to hold it up again he could not be respon-
sible for the way he might act. Later, he
moved to the small community of Red
Star, where he said he intended to stay
unless the sheriff needed him.

Sheriff Palmer was baffled. He had
started out optimistically, only to have
his first hope dashed when the trail had
ended at the creek. Then Dr. Gurganus’
absence from the camp had removed the
possibility of checking on any wounded
man who might apply for treatment. But
even if the wounded bandit had gone to

the camp in search of the doctor, others
would have noticed him. Yet no one had,
apparently. Could it be that the wounded
man and his companion had made good
their escape from the county?

The sheriff was loathe to admit this.
In such a sparsely settled neighborhood,
aman with a shattered arm, whether driv-
ing in a rig, riding in a car or walking the
roads in a county almost destitute of rail-
road transportation, was bound to be seen.
And if seen, the bandit should have been
reported, for in spite of the officers’ ef-
forts to conceal the fact that the man with
the injured arm was the key to the mys-
tery, the details of the holdup were too
well known to disguise.

“Besides,” he explained to King, “even
if those two did get away, the brains of
the gang must be in the camp and it’s up
to us to find him.”

Palmer talked repeatedly to Lemley
about the crime. The Searles station agent
had recovered, somewhat, from the shock
and now took a sad pleasure in recalling
that last day at the station when the train
for the construction camp pulled out.

“Bill was so proud of his marksman-
ship,” he observ ed to Palmer on one of
these occasions. “It seems a scurvy trick
of fate that he should have been shot
down before he had an even chance with
that second bandit. Why, I’ll never for-

get how }
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ught a cup
at to you?”
itted there
jaway said.

“You just about had time to reach Wich-
ita Falls from Leavenworth, didn’t you?”

“Listen, cop, you’re not going to pina
murder rap on me,” the man shouted. “I
can prove where I was. I got picked up
in Tulsa for sleeping in a box car and
spent the night in jail. And that’s the first
time a railroad dick ever did me a favor,”
he added maliciously.

Hanaway wired Tulsa. Within an hour
he and Hart were on their way back to
Wichita Falls, another lead blown up.
Tulsa police had confirmed the convict’s
story.

Back at his office, Hanaway found a
telegram awaiting him. He read it
eagerly. Wichita, Kan., police had a tip
on the blue zipper jacket. The owner of
a cleaning establishment of that city had
recognized their mark from the photo-
graph Hanaway had run in the trade mag-
azine. With scarcely an hour’s rest, the
detective and Hart were again on the
road, this time headed for Wichita.

Again they met disappointment. The
cleaner had identified the markings of
his shop and the coat was finally traced
through the original owner to a second-
hand store where it had been re-sold.
Here the lead vanished. The proprietor
could not remember the customer and
kept no record of his sales.

Discouraged, but still determined, the
officers returned to Wichita Falls. Allen
had nothing new to report. Exhaustive
search had been made through pawn-
shops and second-hand stores for the vic-
tim’s watch. Dallas and Fort Worth po-
lice and members of the FBI assisted in
the search, but nothing had come to light.

Every prisoner that passed through the
city or county jail was carefully ques-
tioned on the Richet murder, but days
began to run into months, and both Allen
and Hanaway faced the discouraging
facts that the trail was getting colder with
no new evidence appearing to help them
solve the brutal, roadside murder.

“Unless something turns up through
our bulletins, it looks like we’re sunk,”
Hanaway said. ‘“We’ve exhausted every-
thing else. We’ll just have to wait for a
break.”

There was no fanfare about it, but
neither did the FBI forget the case. In
every office throughout the country,
painstaking agents were alert for any
slight bit of evidence which would help
crack this roadside mystery. Every pris-
oner, man or woman, who might possibly
have been involved, was questioned
carefully.

The tedious work finally paid dividends.
The break came at last.

It was spring of 1940. Hanaway was
sitting in his office when a call came
through from Agent Conroy of the Dallas
FBI office. “We've found the woman in
the Richet murder case!” Conroy an-
nounced.

“The woman! What woman?” Hana-
way gasped.

“The woman whose suitcase strap was
used to fix the battery,” Conroy explained.
“We've just received word from our
Omaha office that a nineteen-year-old
girl, Sylvia Phipps, who is serving two
years in the women’s reformatory at
York, Nebraska, has made a statement.”

Amazing information was to follow.
Sylvia Phipps had been arrested in Ne-
braska with a companion for passing
forged checks. FBI officers, checking
later on bulletins from Wichita Falls, read
Allen’s bulletin that a woman with a
missing suitcase strap might be involved
in the Texas murder. Sylvia Phipps’ suit-

case had a strap missing. But she denied
knowledge of the crime.

Not at all convinced, the FBI kept after
her, even after she went to prison. Again
and again she was questioned. Finally,
she broke. She dictated a complete con-
fession.

She said that she and a man compan-
ion were hitch-hiking in Oklahoma when
they caught a ride with Richet and drove
toward Wichita Falls. Near the city
limits, her companion, she said, snatched

hatchet and beat the driver to death.
They had tried to escape in the victim's
car, but the battery fell out. They fas-
tened it back with ‘a strap from her suit-
case and tried again. Their efforts failed.
Rather than attract attention by sum-
moning help, they abandoned the car and
hitch-hiked on to San Antonio.

The girl said that her companion threw

his bloody clothes away, pawned the ~

watch in San Antonio, and traded the blue
zipper jacket for groceries. They were
picked up in San Antonio for vagrancy,
but were released, then went north. In
Nebraska, she said, they started passing
forged checks and were arrested. She was
given two years, and her companion drew
six years at the Nebraska prison at Lin-
coln,

Sylvia Phipps named her companion as
Ernest L. Hoefgen. A quick check of the
prison records showed no one there under
that name.

“Tf the girl’s story is true,” Sheriff Allen
said, ‘“‘we need her to go over the route
with us. We'll have to build an airtight
case before we can extradite Hoefgen, if
and when he’s found.”

Altes got in touch with the matron of
the Nebraska reformatory at York
and got permission to return Sylvia
Phipps to Texas for 15 days, to cor-
roborate her story.

The sheriff drove to Nebraska, facing
acold north wind peppered with sleet. But
he was doomed to disappointment. Sylvia
Phipps had broken a rule of the reform-
atory, and the matron refused to release
her. Pleas were of no avail and the sher-
iff returned to Wichita Falls without his
witness.

District Attorney Z. D. Allen immedi-
ately instituted a respite procedure to ob-
tain custody of the girl. Another month
passed and again Sheriff Allen made the
trip to Nebraska. This time he returned

_with the woman witness. .

Meanwhile, the FBI located Hoefgen.
He had entered prison under another
name, but there was no doubt of his
identity.

Under Sylvia Phipps’ directions, the
sheriff came back to Wichita over the
route Richet had taken. Then, beginning
at Wichita Falls, she went with the sher-
iff over the escape route.

At Jacksboro, she said Hoefgen had left
his bloodstained clothes in a filling sta-
tion after changing to Richet’s gray suit,
Here Allen struck his first snag. The
filling station was abandoned. The pro-
prietor had moved to Olney.

Allen drove to Olney and located the
man.

“Yes, I remember that incident,” he
said readily. “A fellow came in and asked
if he could leave a bundle in the station
a little while. I forgot all about it until
about ten days later when my wife found
the bundle and asked me what it was.”

“What became of the clothes?” Allen
asked. "

“My wife took them home. The pants
were eaten up with battery acid and the

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Tayi ty)
i Wa iN >

Sheriff’ Pat Allen: “The killer
must be nuts—running the car

back and forth over a dead man”

oD—3

Could” Lips:

rette Bults. he K
This Man. Near Wichita”

Falls, Texas? How?

By Captain Havelock-Bailie

Special Investigator for
OFFICIAL DETECTIVE STORIES

ing off a train,” Deputy Sheriff
Roy Hart said emphatically.

Sheriff Pat Allen and the other offi-
cers around’ the body that lay near
the cinder bed of the railroad tracks
nodded in agreement. Allen pointed
to the criss-crossed marks that formed
a sort of basket weave over the dead
man’s neat, blue serge suit.

“From the looks of those tire tracks
on him I’d say that a car had been
run over his body several times,” he
said. “Either that or else several cars
passed over him.’,

The officers stood on the right of
way of the Fort Worth and Denver
City Railway a few miles from Wichita

| 1T ite guy wasn’t killed by fall-

Falls, Texas, where it ran parallel to
the highway.

Wichita Falls Detectives Elmer Mc-
Cord and Eugene Brown and Deputy
Pogue stooped down to examine the
body which lay on its back, the lifé-
less hands carefully folded on the
chest. Beneath the bloodsoaked hair
they saw that the skull seemed to be
broken in two or three places.

“Looks like this guy was slugged
as well as run over by a car,” Mc-
Cord commented. ‘

A man who had been Standing off
to the side, walked up to Sheriff Allen,
asked, “Will you be needing me any
more?”

He was W. H. Nichols, a water-

Finger the Killer

service man for the Fort Worth and
Denver City Railway. He had found
the body while traveling along the
rails in his trouble-shooting car.

“Did you notice any cars or people
along the highway when you first saw
the body?” Allen asked.

“No,” Nichols said.

He wasn’t able to add any further
information and the Sheriff told him
he could go. After Nichols had gone
Deputy Hart spoke up.

“I think this guy was murdered. If
a bunch of cars ran over him I don’t
think the last driver would get out and
carry the body to this spot.”

Allen said he agreed and then took
another look at the victim’s head. He
saw that the incisions in the skull
seemed deep and clean. Sheriff Allen
straightened and looked at the as-
sembled officers. He said, “The killer
sure meant business. He cut this man’s
head open, then ran over him—or else
it was the other way around. Well,”
he added, “let’s comb some ground
around here and see what we can see.
You boys get on that while I see if
there’s any sort of identification on
this chap.” .

Careful not to disturb the position
‘of the body, the Sheriff gently searched
the dead man's pockets, Tle found a
billfold in the inside coat pocket and
in it was a Social Security card made
out to George Richet of Independence
Kansas, Another card showed that
George Richet was a member of the
United Brotherhood of Carpenters and
Joiners of America—Local No, 1198 of
Independence, Kansas.

The identification card in the bill-—

fold, which contained eight dollars,

‘bore the same name and address.

The Sherlff rubbed his Jaw thought-
fully. “This is a strange one,” he said
to himself, “Evidently not robbery
and the man’s a long ways from home,

.. Surely no one would bring him this

far to kill him for revenge. So what
ig it about?”

~~ A moment later he found a tele-

gram. It was in the dead man’s vest
pocket and it was dated but two days
old.. It read: oon

GEORGE RICHET, INDEPENDENCE,
KANSAS. GOOD NEWS, GEORGE, COME
TO LUBBOCK’ IMMEDIATELY. HAVE

\ SWELL JOB WAITING FOR YOU, GUY.

Deputy “Hart joined the Sheriff.

' Allen told him what he had. “So we

know the man wasn’t riding a freight
train and we know he was not hiking
the road,” the Sheriff summed up. He
went on to explain that no carpenter
‘would start’ from one place to another,
assured of a job, without his tool kit
and that such a kit was too much -to

“He could have shipped it,” Hart
suggested.
Sheriff. Allen nodded. “He could

have,” he said, “ot he could have been
reding with somebody else — headed
for the same job, Anyhow, we lniow
where the man is from and we know
where he was going. The rest ought
to he eary,”

his was not wishful thluking. Jt
was logical reasoning, based on years
of police work. After all, the identify-
ing of a person found dead ts, oft-
times the hardest part of the case.
That done, the reat of the picture gen-

erally falls into*place. “A’moment later’.

the Sheriff’s belief was substantiated
by a call from down the highway. He
looked around to see Deputy Pogue
and the two city detectives waving at
him,

“Come here, Sheriff!” Pogue called.

HEY had something, the Sheriff

thought. With methodical ‘precision
he stalked toward the other officers. As
-he neared them, Pogue said, “There’s
an abandoned car down here—off the
‘highway. Looks to me like it’s tied
in with this deal.” ate

Sheriff Allen saw at once that this
was right. The car, a Model A Ford,
bore Kansas license plates: The right
front door stood open and a consider-
able amount of blood was on the up-
holstery and running-board.

“So he got it in the car,” the Sher-
iff said softly. “The killer must be
nuts—running the car back and forth
over a dead man and even leaving his
car near the body.”

A moment later he saw the reason
for part of this. The car would not
start and an examination showed that
the battery had dropped from its prop-
er position, breaking the ground cable.

“Which explains that much,” the

Deputy Sheriff Roy Hart: He made a 400-mile trip trying to find the
woman who left lipstick stains on cigarette butts in the death car

Sheriff sald, “but it doesn't explaln
those tire marks all over Richet’s
Clothier, Th lobed Tee he he Wille tn
the car, Then why did the killer go
running the car back and forth over
a dead man?”

“Ht means we're Up against sume sort
of sadist,” Deputy Pogue suggested.

There was a tool kit in the car, The
kit was open, displuylng a set of fine
carpenter tools. The murder weapon
could have conie from among these,
the Sheriff! knew. Three other things
of interest to him were in the car—a
map and a picture and several ciga-
rette butts.

The picture was of the dead man.
The map bore a route marked with
red ink from Independence, Kansas,

George Richet:
in his kit to a new job was used to murder him

to Lubbock, Texas. The map was one
that could be obtained at any service
station, but what interested the Sher-
iff was a notation made, near Lubbock,
in a feminine hand:

Here lies Heaven and prosperity
for all of us.

The Sheriff shook his head, a
sadly. “The woman was wrong,” he
said, and thoughtfully eyed the ciga-
rette butts. On the tips of several were
purplish-red lipstick stains. “Of course
there’s a woman in this business,” he
said. “But—”

“Where is she now, eh?” one of the

others interrupted.
. “Well, yes.” Allen nodded. “It’s
that—and who is she? Is she the wo-
man who wrote that prophecy on the
map? If so, it.seems to me that would
make her Richet’s wife or sweetheart.
Did she leave Independence with him,
or is it someone he picked up on the
way?”

He considered the situation for a
moment. Then he said, “No woman
could have carried Richet to the spot

- ils,”

where he was found.” He added, “We

fonts work to do—lots of it. One of you
y

oye wel this ear towed In to town and
go over it for Hnger-prints, Have the
blood tested, to make sure it’s Richet’s.
Then let’s look around some more—
find the murder weapon.”

They found the weapon a short tim~
later in some tall grass. It was
lathing hatehet und without doub
came from the tool kit in the car. Fur
ther, they found where Richet had bee,
killed and dragged through the grass
toward the railway right of way. He
had been pulled: for a considerable
distance, then the killer apparently
had picked the man up and carried
him the rest of the distance.

At the side of the highway, near

One of the tools he carried

where the dragging had first begun,
they found a pool of dried blood; but
strangest of all were the tire marks
at this point. A car had been driven
back and forth five different times, ob-
viously crossing Richet’s body as many
times.

“The murdering, blood-thirsty dev-
Sheriff Allen muttered. “And
yet,” he added, “Richet had to have
been dead when he was taken from
the car. That hatchet did the trick, so
why all this?”

N° QUESTION but that Richet had
been killed by the lathing hatchet.
The coroner verified this a short time
later. Richet had been dead about six
hours, he said. “He’s got. three deep
cuts in his skull, any one of which
would have been fatal,” the coroner
reported. “The bruises on his body,
and there’s a lot of them, were made
after death.”

The Sheriff looked at his watch. It
was just eight o’clock in the morning.
“That means he was killed around two
a.m.,” he said. “Not many people on
the road at that time. It will either

op—3

I On

Col. Howard, provost marshal of Fort
Wood, teamed up with Sergeant Knight
to prove three GIs killed a cab driver

ae a ’

ite Re ‘i / et,

Pro Oley: ge P de
i ; oN0

hardware dealer whose name was on
the old letterhead. The merchant told
him he had changed the style of his
stationery sometime ago. The old bill-
heads and other papers had been sent
to the city dump.

On February 12th, six days after
Mary Lou Jenkins was slain, 35-year-
old Mrs, May Anna Cochran was found
shot to death in her Columbia home.
An automatic shotgun lay nearby, The
woman had been shot several times in
the face and body.

Together with City Police Chief
N. R. Hagan, Trooper Knight and
Sergeant Wells hurried to the Cochran
home. The dead woman’s husband,
Floyd Cochran, identified the shotgun
as his property. He said he could offer
no suggestions as to who had com-
mitted the gruesome crime.

The victim was fully clothed, and a
physician said she had not been raped.
Her purse contained several dollars,
and she was wearing a diamond wed-
ding set and a valuable wrist watch.
Seemingly, neither sex nor robbery
had motivated the ghastly deed.

Knight and Wells searched the
Cochran home. In a cabinet, Knight
discovered several letterheads identi-
cal with the scrap of paper he had
found in the Jenkins home. Question-
ing of Floyd Cochran, brought the in-
formation that the man sometimes
hauled trash for the Jenkins family.
He used the old stationery to bill his
customers.

The two state patrolmen talked with
neighbors of the Cochrans. They
learned that the husband had been
seen entering and leaving his home at

the approximate time of the murder.

Several good fingerprints had been
found in the Jenkins home, and match-
ing prints were developed from the
shotgun and various spots in the
Cochran house.

Confronted with this evidence, the
husband confessed that he had raped
and slain Mary Lou Jenkins, and had
shot his wife. He said he had gone to
the girl's home to collect the 80 cents
due him, and had found her alone.
He had told his wife about the crime.
When she had threatened to call police,
he shot her.

On January 2, 1947, Floyd Cochran
was put to death in the gas chamber
at Jefferson City Penitentiary. He de-
nied to the end, that he had slain
Janett Christman or raped the other
victims.

Early in March, 1950, Knight was
transfered to Camdenton, Missouri,
seat of Camden county. Here he en-
gaged in an activity far removed from
his usual duties. For a period of
several months, he conducted a class
in marksmanship with a Troop of Boy
Scouts. While in Camdenton, he also
organized and directed a search for a
3-year-old boy who had become lost
in the dense Ozark forest. The baby
was found safe, after a few hours.

Knight returned to Waynesville, in
May, 1951, glad to be back home.

n September 20, 1951, a Waynes-
ville cab driver named Harry Langley,

was found beaten to death. The murder
weapon was two large stones from a
dry creek bed. At the crime scene,
Knight picked up a man’s wrist watch
with a broken band. The timepiece
did not belong to Langley who had
been robbed. Through serial numbers,
the officer traced the watch to a jewel-
er in Atlanta, Georgia. The jeweler
said a woman had purchased the
watch as a “going away” present for
her boy friend, who was entering the
Army. He had not been acquainted
with the couple.

Feeling that the killer might well
be a soldier, Knight now centered his
investigation on the men at Fort Wood.
He located another cab driver who
told him that two soldiers had staged
a fist fight in his cab, on the night of
the murder. The men had left the cab
to finish the fight, and the cabbie had
waited for them. The driver said that
one of the combatants was an un-
usually big man, and that he was in
the Medical Corps.

Colonel Howard, Provost Marshal at
Ft. Wood, assisted the state officer by
assembling all men in the Medical
Corps. The huge soldier who had been
in the brawl, was soon singled out.
This man was able to prove his where-
abouts at the time of the murder.

He told Knight an interesting story,
however. He said that his opponent
in the fight, had lost his service cap
during the brawl. The man had not
attempted to find the headgear, but

had left it at the scene. The two men
had finally patched up their quarrel,
and they had reentered the cab to-
gether. They parted company when
they reached Waynesville.

The informant declared that the
other man was a stranger to him, and
they had shared the cab purely by
chance, The big soldier had not learned
the other man’s name, but the fellow
had volunteered the information that
he was from Atlanta, Georgia. “He
showed me a wrist watch, and said his
girl friend had given it to him as a
‘going away’ present,” the man de-
clared.

Knight had the cab driver point out
the place where the soldiers had
fought. He soon found the Army cap
in a weed patch. The cap bore the
markings of an infantry company also
a faint cleaner’s symbol.

It was a simple matter to locate the
owner of the headgear. This was a
soldier named James Riggins who had
entered the Army from Atlanta, Geor-
gia. After an hour of intensive ques-
tioning, Riggins admitted the brutal
murder of cab driver Langley. He
named two other Army privates as
involved in the crime. These were
Chastaine Beverly and Louis Suttles.
When the two men learned Riggins
had confessed, they admitted their
part in the killing and robbery. All
three were promptly charged with
first-degree murder,

On October 14, 1951, the trio faced

.a General Courts Martial at Ft. Wood.

They were found guilty and sentenced
to hang. Due to routine delays, the
sentence was not carried out until
November 10, 1957, when they were
hanged at Ft. Leavenworth, Kansas.

A short time after he had solvéd

this case, Trooper Knight was pro-
moted to sergeant, and he now had
five Highway Patrolmen working with
him. In addition, he was placed in com-
mand of the Riot Squad, which con-
sists of six men specially trained for
the duty. These officers are equipped
with the usual rifles and shotguns, as
well as with tear gas guns and other
weapons to quell a mob.

On September 4, 1953, a bus stopped
in Waynesville, and the driver beck-
oned to Sergeant Knight who was
nearby. The driver explained that an
elderly woman passenger had lost her
billfold. She said the wallet contained
several hundred dollars. She suspected
a middle-aged and well-dressed man
who shared her seat. This man denied
knowing anything about the matter,
when the sergeant questioned him.

Sergeant Knight studied the male
Passenger. He felt he had seen the
fellow before. Then suddenly he re-
membered, This was an escaped life
term-convict named Speedy Markam.
He had served 26 years in the Iowa
Penitentiary for murder, then he
escaped a few months previously.
Knight and the (Continued on page 60)

"Police Officer of the Month," MASTER DETECTIVE, DECEMBER, 1963,

art,

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fat

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eating Ua = 80" $ ahlinn wc -- - : J .
Anna Lou Knight is justly proud of her Police Officer of the Month husband . oe

‘[ youey uo f*suey SUQuOMUeAReT 410g

*SS6T

‘TRC ~

Nee eal
abep| Topic ee. Daly

CITY EDITION Falislay p- 13S

: sneae
yme Tax Deadline Is

tide Andy's Happy

its burned, a big
1 concentrated attention on a sheaf of].

man sat at his desk at

a window attracted his attention, and
i a woman of grandmotherly appearance

de.

. “do I pay
irections.

'y ;
you in here,
ou will have
: 8 and
r floor
a “ake the
he pig man
pers. But a
ere was an-
je the win-

ung women
ras crooking
ae, the
> his papers
nmons.

the young
my income

east und

Barton E. Griffith
To Seek Shawnee s
Senate Seat Again

Sen. Barton E. Griffith, Topeka

attorney, will file this morning for
renomination in pie
irony * S Announc
dacy day night,
fith said his interest in the affairs

of To
a factor influencing his bid for a

gecond term.

Republican
his candi-
enator Grif-

and Shawnee County is

“All legisl of course have

the welfare of the entire state ne

ake e ele-

ay any tax?”
rned enough

vein
zugnt
1 Kansas.
th: Fioor
art.” said the

fc 38 on the
ux =—o)s explain

a Mis-

‘urned away,
1e questioner
you sure I'll

in mind,” he explained, “but there

ened |

heela clicked||

F dd
Cu

Lansing, Kan., April 15.—~
(Saturday) {()—The gal-
lows trap was sprung under
Fred L. Brady\at the, Kansas
State Prison ab) 1:02 o'clock
this morning. |

Brady, of Arkansas City,
was pronounced dead at 1:17
am. by Dr. BE. R. Sterett,
who said he died instantly of
a broken neck. |

Calm thru all his final hours,
Brady marched solemnly to the
allows, paused at the bottom of
fhe steps and spoke his last word
to Warden Robert Hudspeth:

Asks Warden’s Forgiveness

“Tf there is an you have {
against me, I rit gna forgives §

88.
Brady, firat of two men sched<
uled to be. hanged at tie prison to-

was quite calm! appar-

ently reconciled to his appros
th in the early morn

hunty.
Knox Resigned to Fate

Clark B. Knox, 26, Kansas City,
Kan., Negro, also appeared re-
signed to his death—scheduled
shortly before sundown this evé-
ning from the same gallows. -

rady, 46, a whi man, waa
sentenced for the slaying of Joe
Williams, Arkansas City Negro,
during an attempted holdup. Knox

4) will pay with his life for t le fatal

heels clicked
1e bi man
ee whiz! I
e talking to

ive’s tax
vening were
He walked
bile and ar-
find passage
lar. An eX-
out.
“00
: to get into
1 thOwsitizen.

or Schoeppel

st be doing a

he chuckled
egy qualified
e.”’

adline is to-

nloo
Draw

uc raul Mar-
nilitary serv-
was nothing
dquarters or
)y about it.

ger a truck-
Toedman,
ger for ODT,
ould have to
ducted. Toed-
to send in a
| to ask for
an essential
er. Martin’s
r, the day set
1e ODT man-
10ne immedi-
‘ctive service
e draft board
t..

h water, Em-
- - group over
aad of sched-
yvenworth was
tin had been
‘ice—was
D) om

BEN. BARTON E. GRIFFITH
is an additional} chaltenge. in the
big districts serving Topeka, Kan-
sas City and Wichita, owing to the
necessi of sponsoring so many
local bills. ns experiences during
the 1943 session were interesting
and I 1 helpful: to the district.’
Griffith has actually se only
half a normal term, since he re-
laced Sen. Joe Nickell when
ickell was called to the Army...

Sponsors Local Biils -
He was a member of commit-

por, cities ef the fireé tikes, Dulld-| sous

ing and loan, state library, educa-
tion, insurance, military affairs,
and railroads. . While he took a
leading roje in all matters of gen-
eral interest, he was especially ac-
tive in connection with bills deal-
ing with veterans, and with To-
peka and Shawnee County.

One successful measure spon-
sored by Griffith gp Sidon any of-
ficer in the armed service to act
as notary blic in taking ac-
knowledgmel which ia a special
conventence “to meén overseas in
relation to voting and other prob-
lems. Another Griffith ‘bill, now
law, modernized the statute on
incompetent veterans so that it
coincides more accurately with re-
quirements of the Veterans’ Ad-
ministration.

Local legislation which achieved
passage under Senator Griffith's
spore ae included: Permitting

opeka firemen to RO outside city
limits on calls; raising compenSa-
tion of firemen and po eren Bees
to 1932 levels; maintaining salary
schedules of city officiais despite
a temporary drop in popula on;
authorizing the fire departmen

(Continued on Page 11, Col. 3)

teeplejack, Jill Bid
ee ee a ee

Willams, ADNalDpaS UlL AVG
during an attempted holdup.
will pay with his life for the fatal
shooting of Edward Nugent, Kan-
sas City, Kan., a white policeman.
The execution of Brady was the
second in Kansas under the 1935
law. re-establishing the death
enalty for first-degree murder,
rnest Hoefgen, thirty-one-year-
old Texas fugitive, was hanged
March 10 for the murder of Bruce
Smoll, 18, Kansas State College
student from Wichita. Hoefgen's
execution was the first by the
state in nearly seventy-five years, |

Petition to Schoeppel

Both of the condemned men ap~ °
arently had exhausted "every
egal move in an attempt to stay
as e executions. Gov. Andrew

ot ky said Friday he had re-
ceived no letters indicating publie

opposition to the hangings.
owever, a

petition carrying the
gnatures of thirty reuinente of
anseas City, Kan.asking mercy
for Knox, arrived Fri ay at

Schoeppel’s. office.
Evidently npeieered by a relie
group, twenty of the. thirty
names on thé pétition were
prefaced by the title, “Hildér,” and
ane a fe Sa ,
} preamble, the tition
atated: ‘We, the undersigned. citis
zens, hereby petition your: Hon.
and the Parole Board of the state
of Kansas for Executive clemency
for one Clark Knox, sentenced to
be electrocuted on the 15th of
April, 1944.” '
he state of Kansas does not
execute by electricity,, but by

hanging.
recently Perce the.

aU,

nox

Brady
Catholic faith, and _ been vise
ited daily by the son Catholic
chaplain, the Rev.
Knox has received spiritual
ance from the Rev. ei Pleas,

sas City, Kan,, Negro.’

Ran:
) ne
No Visitors Allowed

Warden Robert Hudspeth Fri-
day allowed no visitors. Brady's
wife visited him three weeks ago.
Knox was visited by a sister early
this week.

Williams was shot to death at
Arkansas City, January 9, 1942.65
Brady pleaded ilty four days
later to a first degree murder
charge and was first seftenced to
hang March 20, 1943, by District
Judge Stewart Bloss at Winfield.

He subsequently was granted
three reprieves. Prison records
showed that Brady’s criminal ca-

jreer began thirty years ago when

Mr. Delahunty,. |

2 U0 of Ss

er, cm.tlimits on calls;

ip over

sched-
-th was
id been
. Cf-~ "VAR

raising compensa:
tion of firemen and policemen back
to 1932 levels; maintaining salary
schedules of city officials despite
a temporary drop in population,
autho tain the fire departmen

(Continued on Page 11, Col. 3)
2plejack, Jill Bid
» High Chimney

essional steeplejack,” Topekan whose
ye of high-altitude work, Friday sub-
396 for razing the old state heating

*kson streets. |

bids. Ernest Engineering Compgny, Topeka,
imber and Wrecking Company, St. Joseph,
‘uilding Wrecking Company, Kansas City,
act will be awarded after the State Execu-

ecision. ,

09 Sage, said his wife expects to scale dizzy
lant chimney if he lands the contract. Re-
be the hazardous feature of the undertak-

into a fund of about $3,600

to » directly

sa_._yed materials, plan:to defray expenses
uncil’s contingent fund. The area will be

e filled in, and a parking lot laid out.

we visited nim tnree weeks ago,
Knox was visited by a sister early
this week.

Williams was shot to death at
Arkansas City, January 9, 19432.)
Brady pleaded iity four days
later to a first degree murder
charge and was first seftenced to
hang March 20, 1943, by District
Judge Stewart Bloss at Winfteld.
He subsequently was granted
three reprieves. Prison records
showed that Brady’s criminal ca-
reer began curey ore ago when
he was sentenc the Arkansas
state prison for two years on @
grand rsilge charge. He later
served time in the Missouri, Nee
braska and Kansas ns.

Knox was convi of the
Nugent slaying in Wyandotte
County District Court and! on Oc-
tober 9, 1943, was sentenced by.
Judge William M. nton to be
hanged April 15.\ He made no
appeal to the BP ded Supreme

ourt. Nugent was shot the night
of August 1, 1943, by a Ne
he icked up on complaint
of a girl worker. The shooting
occurred as Nugent was taking
the Negro to police station
in a car. Knox was arrested two
days after Nugent’s death.

to
old niece, Inez Burling.
cution has been stayed until the.
Supreme Court rules on his case, |
->

Await Ransom Demand |
For'Chicago Gambler

for
awaited tonight as the next de-
t in the kidnaping of
Jack veteran boss of Chi-

canoe am Dante Guiert, chief in«

Vv r for the state’s attarney,
told. reporters’ he was. convinc

the former business manager. of
the Capone dicate had been
abducted, and that a sizeable sum

d j .| would be asked for his return.
e

Government Spending.

Reaches New Peak

Apri! 14.— a
war spending
7,948,000,<

| 1.8

the previous record

se. a i eer eee, aa ee a ee, i

oring ‘a|'definit

‘He: said: tonight: |

“Tt. the} cony
rision” and

‘Roosevelt

ention adopts eh ‘
sends it officially to/ Presj-|.
» I jbelieve that
of congr

in, advance
1 ‘pass upon it. Action
1g .a bill and submitting
is. not a parallel cas

,tresident Roo
@ answer,

It to

| evelt

Jim| Crow’

the

e. The intérests

. entire’ state are involved in the pres-

acat’s decision. If he shéulc
turn dawn the
Inaily .submitted
statehood

in then

lause,

with

‘normous expenditure made

<Lddbetter, who ib
he, “Jim. Crow"
toosevelt, was |th
if the convention

ince that! the

roye.the const)
royision. inserted
f its opponents

riends of the!
hat when the
1ierve to vote.

sorters of

onstitution. :

. OF

provisi

for

issue

quiry

very person! who shal]
Yklahoma must subscribe to

‘6 will not accept or
luring hisiterm of o
‘pon motion of Filis to the
A section of the. constit
fed creating the office
arities and. correction
by either a man o

ffice,

the
would he

| “Jim |

1 remainis{lent
constitution, if
Grow’

lost ang

in vain.t’

to)

reported to have sont

President

man who on theafloor
xpressed perfect agsur-
{dent would not
itution with a “Jim

fisap-
row”’

| This $s taken by gome

an Indication tha
On are weakenin
test} comes will not hay
the measure,
“Jim! C ow,”
ng its value asia
t Democratic legislature
enators, declare

thre
and
thr
The. sup-

although recogniz-
on Which to
and DemoByatia
hat it wlll £0 intd

‘lect

the

hold off} ri

an oath Fthar

US6 any railroad gpass

This wag ded
official oath.

ution was also

of commissioner
8, Which may be
r woman,

to’- ba

a ere

delegates are now working without pay..

< is a conservative prediction that the’ ses-
sions will continue at: least two weoks, In
all probability, longer. Beyond several.
measures of a purely minor importance,
not a single constitutional plank has had

its final reading. The Prohibition fight wag
practically settled yesterday, but the ini-
tlative and referendum provision, adopted
In the committee of the whole, has been
sidetracked for reconsideration, and that a
similar fate awaits other paramount prop-
Ositions Js frankly admitted by Democratic
leaderg. |

The ‘convention, before adjourning today
until Monday, Mstened to the schoo] land
committee’s report. A ha dala plank pro-
hititing monopolies was also Bubmitt ;

TWO HANGINGS IN KANSAS.

Both Occurred Legally in Leaven-

worth County Years Ago.

LEAVENWORTH, KAS... I'eb. 2.—(Spe-
cial.) Old settlers here contradict the state-
ment given nich publicity tin the last few
days that there hag never been a legal
hanging in Ixausas. Tho first legal hang-
ing was jin 1870, when Carl Jforn, of Leay-
enworth county, was hanged at the site or
the present county jail for a murder com-
Initted in Kaston township.

An 6x-conviot named Dixson, who mur-

dered a Jew peeueh was hanged here of-
ficially several years later than that.

Zs aow Ff “eee

BX
(Spec
meeti

‘Linco

Leazgt

yeste)
nent |
force
{s to
gard
and ]
Samp)
execu
dent,
M. Bi
The
Biven
tive t
el ed
the le
prosec
hereb:
gates,
visit «
violat:
minor.
Sabba
ly for
active
ad by st
port t
ward

-mercie

we ca
zens t
and t
cleans
from

rood

frqm |

gh tits Aaron.
pot ae we fer ie
hse #4 $4
ate roth te

Fag th oC ED

ver

ng ‘that grows, pays

i K pen Crh Joop ar Pp. Det co
~ < a
| JW Fe

1 ’v ;

31907

|
hen

., eur pola @ A s
poe fe |
{ - ~ iil ,
<. hog:
| ne
- 4 Lf
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2: '
je 4

i
vege

L,
. $

rtising that pays, grows
lvertisi

Duttae ants 3 ‘4
‘ibis bi its aie i
TPR IIR AE 20 ENE RY ay

GEORGE GUMTOW spent the morning shooting at tin

cans. with a friend: He was getting into practice, And
that night he returned to blast his fellow marksman. He

points. to the gun he used for both Sport: and murder. git

(dt hanged Kansas (Kingman) on July 295

i: See J

er ae st Bt : arieeeesiterinneen ein ois i

-» -.. By Charles R. Smith

DOWN HIS FATHER. BUT HE COULDN'T

- *

THE SON KNEW THE KILLERS WHO SHOT

NAME THEM. HE WAS A PARALYTIC WHOSE

SPEECH HAD BEEN CHOKED SINCE BIRTH!

INSIDE DETECTIVE, October, 19h8< oo

pwraes D ¥ 9

Fred L,, white, hanged Kansas (Cowley Co.) on 4/15/1944,

ee ee eae

"THE NOOSE AWAITS TWO, -

” Sus aUSaS to F.xact. Penalty. in Mure,

alers ‘Tomorrow. ~

Two men, a white man who killed |
a Nevro and a Negro who murdered |

‘a white _patrolman-- wil—de-en the!

‘the time forsthe execution of the:
death sentences was fixed by the
court sentences. Judge Stewart
_Bloss of the District. Court of Cow=- “

and sunset, ; .
uae rn italy eno Tas

DTRIC
alcas Cry
th. f4- /9¢4

/\4

xallows in the Kansas penitentiary
at Lansing tomorrow,

{

i=Fied L Brady, slaver of Joe Wile

liams, Negro, mt Arkansas - City in

January, 1943, swill. be -haneed:
shortly after 1 o'clock in’ the morn-,

Ving. Clark B* Knox. -who fatally:

wounded. Eduward_F..Nugent’ a Kan-!

sas City, Kansas, patrolman, as he ;
‘was being taken -to the police station:

'10r questioning ‘August ‘J. Jast, will.

be executed at 7 o'clock at night. 43
Robert H. Hudspeth, warden, said.

.ley County ordered that Brady die.

between 1 and 7 o'clock }n the morn- | :
ait and the sentence of Judce Wil- ': .

lurd M. Benton: of the’ Wyandotte"

County Dtatrict court -read that:

Knox should die. ‘between SUES

. *
-<

od
¥-

NAME

DOB OR AGE

RECORD

~ Aight. ee

ares Ao r_» AaLliiaLisse SL an —

rs 2 09 Ler POO a baal oe sa an ttl

OPI Y on

die Yas f, ey Outs 6. 44s ae

coe TOE Kno sas fed Cosa bf“ OMS AS

aN am ranernMn REF

A A Nd SOS SS ee

She put on a robe and opened the front door.

eee f

THE ODDS piled up heavy against
this man at the end. The judge
who convicted him was a brother-
in-law of the man he had murdered.

FROM THE INSIDE FILES OF KANSAS

S THE THIN BLADE of the new moon cruised across

the stormy Kansas sky, Frank Wagner’s chained black and
white terrier woke up and lunged at the man who crawled on
his belly up the garden path.

The chain held. Slowly, painfully, the man inched along
the rough gravel, the sharp stones tearing the tissues from
his hands and knees. Wracking sobs shook. his body as he
dragged himself onto the soft, damp lawn. He lay for several
moments as if dead, then, phantom-like, he struggled upright
and loped across the grass tough the house. :

The dog barked furiously &nid danced at the end of its
leash, maddened by the sight of the Strange creature flailing
the front door with his fists. ia

Mr. and Mrs. Wagner were asleep in the back room. Frank, °
a state highway employe, had worked since dawn, and his wife,
an enthusiastic gardener, was worn out after weeding and
planting all day. . |

It was several minutes before the racket outside woke her.

For an instant
she stood motionless, shocked by the sight before her.

were overwhelmed by dazzling light,

GRATITUDE was not George Gum-
tow’s forte. After he had been fed,
housed, and taken fishing, he
shot his benefactor and stole $4. .

WILD JAZZ greeted the neighbors who rushed to
McClelland’s ranch house, Opening the door,
a blaring radio
and the sight of two men sprawled dead on the floor..

WHAT WOULD Sheriff J. W. Brite find
in Room 27? Would gunfire meet
‘him when he opened the door? He j

inserted the key softly .., oa

The frenzied man had collapsed on the doorstep—face down,
his bloody hands outstretched. She stooped to-turn his head, |
then gasped, “Raymond! Raymond, what happened ?” 4

Raymond McClelland’s: features twisted in agony. His lips 4
moved as if trying to form words. But he could not. For
34 years his legs and vocal cords had been stiff with paralysis, ~
only his father and brother being able to understand the words 4
he formed with so much difficulty.

But his eyes at this moment spoke a thousand words. Mrs. 7
Wagner saw stark terror was mirrored in them. “Raymond!”.
Mrs. Wagner implored. “Raymond, try to tell us what
happened !”

phrases rumbled at the back of his ;
Finally she heard him groan, “Daddy #

Distant, half-formed
throat. She bent close.
and Arnold shot.” 4

Frank Wagner was still half asleep when he shuffled into ~
the living room. Raymond’s message was like the fragment.
of a fantastic dream. Wilbur McClelland, owner of a grain
elevator and one of the biggest farms in Calista, Kan., was”
his good friend. Arnold, a strapping, healthy man _ of ™

WILBUR McCLELLAND, a wealthy farmer, sho
have scotched the rumor that he never

less than $1,000. A robber killed him and founé
only $4. McClelland is shown with grandchild«

they

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36, was his father’s right-hand man.

While Mrs. Wagner bathed his bleeding
knees, Raymond gripped the sides of his chair
in a desperate attempt to overcome his afflic-
tion.

But the words wouldn’t come.

“Take it easy, boy,” Wagner soothed. He

went to the telephone to call Sheriff J. W.
Brite in Kingman. ;

“Go over to the farm, and keep people out
until I get there,” Wagner was told.

George Norris, Calista’s postmaster, and
Jeff Harper, a neighbor, answered Wagner’s
call for help. Within a few minutes they were
joined by Mrs. Frank Boswell, a registered
nurse.

It was 100 yards to the McClelland home,
a low-roofed ranch house standing at the edge
of a great corn field. In five minutes, unarmed
and unbriefed, except by the terror in Ray-
mond’s eyes, Wagner led the way up the path.

HE NIGHT was still. The gray outlines

of a bunkhouse and barns lay to their left.
To their right was a long machine shed. Sud-
denly Wagner heard hot music. “Go on,”
Norris urged, as Wagner stopped short, stun-
ned by the incongruity of turbulent jazz. He
broke into a run, pushed open the.living room
door and stood there a second, overwhelmed
by dazzling lights and a blaring radio.

It was a weird prelude. For, at the far
end of the room, Arnold*’ McClelland was
sprawled face down, feet close together, with
a gaping hole in the back of his gray denim
work shirt. .

A cry from Jeff Harper unfroze Wagner.
He followed the man’s horrified gaze into a
bedroom. There, huddled on his knees with
his forearms pressed across his:stomach, was
Wilbur McClelland, a bullet hole just below
the chest.

Running forward, Wagner saw Norris at
the radio. “Leffe it on,” he shouted. “Don’t
touch anything.

Grotesquely the radio continued its merry
tune while the four grouped sorrowfully
around their friends. ,

“Shot in the back,” Wagner muttered, star-
ing at Arnold’s body. “He didn’t have a
chance.”

Nurse Boswell, bending over Wilbur Mc-
Clelland, reported that the old man had walked
nearly 25 feet, from the living room to the
bedroom before he collapsed. She gauged
this by a trail of blood.

“That’s strange,” Wagner said, beside her.
“Did you notice the difference in the wounds.
Arnold was killed with some kind of shotgun,
but Wilbur,” he said, pointing to the old man
“got his from a small caliber rifle or revolver.”

The nurse studied the wound intently.
“That’s. right,” she said. “I wonder if. . .”

The low moan of an ambulance outside
interrupted her. They both got up and ran
to the door, where Sheriff Brite and Under-
sheriff C. H. Kincheloe stood waiting.

“Nothing’s been touched,” Wagner told
them. “Not even the radio.”

The sheriff turned it off. The resulting
quiet restored Wagner’s balance. He passed
on his theory that different guns had killed
Wilbur and Arnold, and while the sheriff
examined the bodies, made his first detailed
study of the room. -

A chair stood on end, which the elder Mc-
Clelland had possibly knocked over in his
flight to the bedroom. But nothing else was

‘disturbed. A glance into the other rooms re-
| vealed that the house hadn’t been ransacked.

There seemed no motive for murder until
Wagner, returning to the living room, spot-
ted what the others had so far missed—two
pocketbooks, stacked one on top of the other
on a sideboard table.
He let the sheriff handle them. They were
empty. “McClelland usually carried a lot of

money on him didn’t he?” Brite said.

Norris spoke up. “He was supposed to carry
as much as $1,000, but it wasn’t true. He
always paid off his help by check,”

“A rumor like that persists though, doesn’t
it?” the sheriff said, meaningfully. Pocketing
the wallets, he walked into Raymond’s bed-
room. Wagner once again told how the
cripple had appeared at his door. They mar-
veled at the effort he had made. Disordered
bedding and clothes scattered on the floor
indicated his frantic struggle.

“He arrived at my place around 9 o'clock,”
Wagner said. “It would take him at least half-
an-hour to crawl that far.”

“Kight-thirty then,” the sheriff said, fixing
the time of the killing. He made a final ex-
amination of the bodies before Kincheloe and

the driver carried them to the ambulance. As 3

the vehicle left, he turned to Wagner. ‘“You’re
right, Frank,” he said. “There were two
guns—and two killings. My guess is that
Wilbur was shot with a .22 and Arnold with
a .410. They were probably standing listening
to the radio. The men stole in from the kitchen.
When Arnold turned to run, the one with the
shotgun got jittery and let him have it.”

“But why did the other fellow kill Wilbur 2”
Wagner asked.

“Wilbur could have identified him,” the
sheriff replied.

“But what about Raymond?” Norris asked.

The sheriff eyed him thoughtfully. “Ray-
mond can’t talk, can he?”

“And it saved his life,” Nurse Boswell mur-
mured.

Wagner decided to go home. News of the
double murder had spread through town, and
as he left the ranch house friends and neigh-
bors of the McClellands begged him to tell
what happened. He gave the bare facts and
continued on his way, head bowed.

The black and white terrier. which had
barked furiously at Raymond was subdued
now. As Wagner passed into the house, it
whimpered and tried to lick his hand as if
sensing the trouble he had seen.

Still numbed by shock and disgusted, he
made for the big chair and sank -down ex-
hausted. “It was two men... two men killed
the McClellands,” he said, not looking up at
his wife.

I know,. Frank,” Mrs. Wagner said quietly.
“Raymond told me.” ,

“Raymond!” Wagner. said, amazed. “I
thought .. .”

“I can understand him,” she said simply.
Her husband got up. :

“He's sleeping,” she cautioned. “Sit down.”

THOUSAND half-formed words and

phrases swam in her mind. While her
husband was at the farm, she had soothed
and comforted Raymond. She hadn’t urged
him to talk. But her soft tone and her kind-
ness had momentarily broken the dam which
choked his speech.

At 8:30 that evening, she ‘told her husband,
Wilbur and Arnold were listening to the
radio in the living room. Raymond was in
bed, his door closed. Suddenly there were
loud voices, then two shots. Seconds later
there were running footsteps past Raymond’s
window.

“Did he see them? Wagner marveled that
his wife had learned so much.

She shook her head. “The blinds were
drawn and the radio was too loud for him

to identify their voices, but Raymond says 5

it might have been George and Cecil.”
“George and Cecil?” he said. : :
Mrs. Wagner nodded and pulled her chair.
closer. : ;
“But they left Saturday,” he said, amazed.
Four days ago, Wagner knew, Wilbur Mc-
Clelland had picked up two migratory farm
workers hitch-hiking on the Kingman road.
He had offered them jobs harvesting the -

wheat and they had stayed the night, but the.

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following day, as far as Wagner knew, they
had continued on their way.

“Raymond saw them,” his wife informed
him, “in the yard with Arnold, shooting at
tin cans with Wilbur’s .410 and .22. And they
had supper there this evening.”

He knew his friend had two weapons, and
also where he kept them, but it had slipped
his mind owing to the tragic events of the
evening. ‘

“But whether it was George and Cecil that
ran by his window,” his wife said reading
his thoughts, “Raymond doesn’t know. They
left the house at 7 P.M., intending to hitch-
hike to Kingman to see a show.”

Wagner ran the 100 yards to the farm,
pushed his way through the growing crowd
to tell this latest development to Brite and
then led the way to a wall-cupboard set in a
dark corner near Raymond’s room. The guns
.were gone.

Brite stepped onto the porch and switched
on the yard lights. At the back of the grim-
faced crowd stood the manager of the Skelly
oil station. Brite beckoned him in. His place
was on Highway 54, and to hitch-hike to
‘Kingman the boys would have to pass it,
which, he said, they had not.

Brite asked him if he actually knew the
two tall, lanky kids named George and Cecil.
oa he said, “I saw them at 4:30. They

fmy place on the way back from the’
farm./They had been repairing McClelland’s
grain elevator—tar all over their clothes.”

The McClelland car was parked near the
kitchen door. The key was in the switch and
the gas tank nearly full. The fact that the two
had passed up this chance of a speedy getaway
convinced the sheriff that Cecil and George
were. not seasoned criminals.

The pair might still be hidden in the neigh-
borhood or along one of the side roads leading
to the state highway where they might at-
tempt to accost a passing motorist. As time
passed Brite reasoned, they were bound to
get jittery.

“They’ve still got those guns,” the sheriff
said. “And they’re likely to kill anyone who
gets in their way.”

He outlined a plan to warn persons living
between Calista and Kingman. Then he depu-

the main highway. “Tell: everyone to keep
his yard lights burning, a gun handy, and
don’t let this pair hole up anywhere,” the

= Within an hour an area approximately ten
miles square resembled an armed camp. Lights
blazed and guns lay within easy reach of
farmers and their wives.

Then Brite took up position in Kingman.
With Kincheloe and Police Captain John
Taber he drove up and down Main Street,
checking every car that entered the city.

Meanwhile, back in Calista, a farmer named
Frank Porkapile, organized a posse to hunt
the killers, wild animal style. He had found
.foot prints and broken foliage in a ripening
cornfield 50 yards from the house.. With
trained hounds he followed this trail for sev-
eral miles.

The South Fork River was in sight when
Porkapile stumbled over something which
told him he was on the right track. Wilbur’s
410 shotgun lay in the mud discarded, evi-
dently, because of an exploded shell stuck in
the ‘breach, making it impossible to reload.

Aware that the pair still possessed the .22
rifle, the pursuers moved cautiously. But as
the pavement of Highway 54 loomed up front,
and the trail feft the soft mud, the hunters
eased up. “They may have gone to Kingman,
or they may have bypassed the town for
Wichita,” Porkapile said, “We've lost them
now.”

In Kingman, Brite wasn’t having much suc-

cess either. Hotels, rooming houses, and

Mention of the guns made Wagner sit up. |

tized four of McClelland’s neighbors to patrol ,

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tourist camps had been checked without result.
Desk clerks had been told to look ont for
two slender, swarthy men, but so far no
alarm had been turned in.

Brite parked’ his car between Consolidated
Mills and the Santa Fe station, a vantage
point where he could see anyone walking
down the railroad tracks toward town, or
along the river bank. Through his driving
mirror, he could also cover the highway south
of Main Street. But for two hours nothing
happened.

[; WAS past midnight when the red light

flashed on and off in front of the Overland
Hotel. This was Brite’s signal that he was
wanted at the telephone at headquarters. To
avoid over-long. absence from his post, he
Lora to have the call transferred to the
otel.

Behind the desk, waiting for the operator
to switch him over, his eye wandered down
to the open register. All the rooms were filled.
He knew that everyone had been investigated
who had checked in before midnight.

But at the bottom of the page, he saw that
two guests had signed in after the 12 o’clock
shakedown. Two men had registered as Gerald
and Charles Davis from Jacksonville, Tex.,

and had checked in at 1 o’clock and been .

assigned to Room 27. ;

Brite had the operator cancelghis call, and
summoned Captain Taber from police head-
quarters. “What about this Davis pair?” he
said when the officer arrived. “How did they
get into town?”

Taber couldn’t explain it.

The sheriff pushed the service bell. “I want
the keys for Room 27,” he said when the
night clerk appeared.

A few minutes later, Brite, Taber and the
night clerk tiptoed up to Room 27. There
was no wall switchginside, Brite knew. To
turn on the it if would have to pull the
cord in the centerfof the room. If the men
were the McClelland murderers, he would be
at their mercy for a few seconds.

Motioning Taber and the clerk to one side,

he softly inserted the key. The door swung ~

open. In an instant he flashed on the light.

The two men called Davis were asleep in
a double bed. They stirred restlessly for a
moment. The sheriff grabbed each by a foot
and shook them. “On your feet,” he ordered.
“I want to look you over.”

Brite, over six feet himself, was amazed at
the tremendous size of the two men who faced
him. Both were taller than he, and propor-
tionately broad and powerful. One was plain-
ly nervous. His legs trembled, and he reached
for the bed rail for support. There was a
dark patch on his right knee.

“Get on your clothes,” Brite said. “That
tar patch is a giveaway. I want you for
murder.”

At Brite’s office the two men admitted the
name “Davis” was false. One identified him-
self as Cecil Tate, 21, of Jacksonville, Tex.,
the other as George Gumtow, 23, of Battle

Creek, Mich. But, Gumtow, aggressive and.

obviously the leader, asked what law the y
had broken by registering under an assumed
name, and challenged Brite to pin anything
on them.

The sheriff put in a call to Jacksonville po-
lice headquarters for information on Tate
whom he believed would be the first to wilt.

It was daylight when Brite unlocked Tate’s
cell. He sat down on his bunk, offered his
pack of cigarettes and remarked, “I’ve talked
to Jacksonville. I can’t figure how you’d get
in a jam like this.”

Tate merely nodded and stared out of the
barred window.

“You hooked up with Gumtow at a’ carnival
in Port Arthur,” Brite continued. “Quit
your job there and hitch-hiked north, headed
for Pueblo, and now you face a murder charge.

didn’t quite get the. job done.”

Tate stared at him. we

“Arnold McClelland is dead,” Brite ex-
plained, “but you only nicked the old man.
P’ll bring him from the hospital in a day or
two to identify you.”

Tate puffed nervously at his cigarette,
‘glanced at the officer momentarily, then turned
to the window again.

“Gumtow says you sliot the old man and
made him kill Arnold when he turned to run.”

Tate leaped to his feet and shouted, “That’s
a lie. Gumtow planned it. He loaded the
guns in the afternoon. He had the rifle and
held up the old man. He ordered me to get
the .410 and the billfolds from the dining room.
Gumtow shot the old man. When Arnold
started to run, I plugged him.”

Tate revealed that Wilbur McClelland had
picked them up on Friday evening as they
stood beside Highway 54 trying to thumb a.
ride. He offered them jobs during the har-
vest, at $7.50 a day, board included, and they
agreed to try it out. On Sunday, Arnold
took them fishing, then target shooting in the
yard. ; ;

“Gumtow thought the old man carried a
lot of money in that wallet,” Tate said. “But
we found only $19. He owed us $15 for work
so we made $4 for murder.”

Tate repeated his accusation in front of
Gumtow. The leader cursed Tate as a weak
fool, but admitted the story was true. Both
men signed detailed confessions, and not until
then did Brite tell them that Wilbur Mc-
Clelland was dead.

FArcy Tuesday morning Gumtow, accom-
panied by Brite and state troopers, re-
traced the route he and Tate had followed
from the McClelland home. The .22 rifle was
found on a sandbar beneath the railroad
bridge over the South Fork River. “We
waded that river twice,” Gumtow said, “and
could have dropped the gun ih the middle
either time. But we threw it over the bridge.
Just our luck that it landed on the sandbar.”

Asked how they evaded the police when
they reached Kingman, Gumtow replied. “We
saw the cops stop cars and question everyone.
We left the railroad tracks west of the mill

‘and took our time getting down to Main

Street. When we saw the squad car head for
the other end of town, we got into the hotel.
I never figured you would look that close.”
“You never figured that Raymond Mc-
Clelland would talk, either,” said Brite.
“The cripple?” Gumtow said. He seemed
to have ceased to care about the fate before
him. *The fact that Raymond was not really,
a silent witness struck him as ironic.
“But he didn’t see us when we came back,”
he insisted.
“No, but he saw you at target practice with
Arnold in the afternoon. That gave us a
pretty good lead since the .22 and the .410
were missing.” sa
The two boys were taken into district court
and listened without emotion as County At-
torney John McKenna, a brother-in-law
Wilbur McClelland, read the formai charge of
first degree murder. Asked to plead by Judge
Clark A. Wallace, both prisoners answered
“guilty.”

As they had loaded the guns four hours ‘g :
before the crime, the prosecuting attorney 3

contended that the crime was premeditated.

“You killed two men who tried to befriend ~

you,” Wallace said, “and now you must pay
with your lives.” © 2 ae aS
He sentenced them to die on the gallows
in Kansas state prison at Lansing, and at one
minute after midnight on July 29, 1947, guards
helped them mount the 13 steps. Partners.
in a brutal murder, their evil careers were
ended simultaneously by the crack of the
hangman’s rope. aay

You and Gumtow tried hard enough, but you 3

lrene's
Guilty

(C antinued fr

' wood products fit

of the washroom gro:
One of them recalled :
fore she had seen ¥f
a sleek new car driv
dark man. ee

“He put his arms
her,” she went on. “A
band; I’ve met him.”

Scores of Ward emp
before Doyle came ac:
add to what already fx
witness, a young wort
Irene many weeks }
Avenue near Ashland 4
sky strolled along w
swered to the descriptix
had been seen* kissing
casion,

“She introduced hin
last name,” she went
pinch-faced fellow wh
I guess I didn’t app
about him because Irery
day, gave him a big bu

“She said, ‘As far a
a movie star, but, bab
and loves to spend it
he bought her a $1,0¢
He even wanted to giv
but she*didn’t know ho

“Then: she showed >
rock that would knoc
cost $1,200, she said,
bought it for her in
where I ran into the:
keep what I knew te
to the other girls.”

“What else?”

“That was all that
told her, ‘Honey, if he
duce him to me,’ wee

The conversation h
formant said, prior to t
husband from the Arm

The squad now fe;
mander, Captain Phil
cago detective bureau.

“That's real progres:
“You have a &
friend, plus his first na
he has a car and his ;
in the bucks. Now we
store where he ‘bought

Six teams of detect’
graphs of the slain be:
to comb the busy sh
Ashland and Milwaw'
jewelry store. After va
and owners of five she
Stein and Detective 7
at an establishment ¥”
nized the picttre ,

“One o: my. very
beamed. “She bought
here.” “s ih ‘

“She bought. them:
eyebrows. iets

veWell, her man frie

“Know him?”

“He has a chat
chant went to_ his file:
card, which -he am
“There, i ree

rd. 1 KEP

The ca aft

seph “Joey” Mus

Leaving the J

went to a nearby.

honed the police DY!
p useare

“The name “Muses

(HICKOCK, Richard E., and SMITH, Perry Ee, Continued)

"The State penitentiary at Lansing, Kans., and the farmhouse
of Herbert Clutter of Holcomb, KanSe, 4OO miles apart, belonged
to separate worlds, and the Clutter family could not have imagined
that a hidden thread connected the twoe Wheat-grower Herbert
Clutter, 48, his wife Bonnie and their teen-age children Kenfon
and Nancy might have thought themselves the happiest and most
secure family in Kansas. They were prosperous; they lived in a
peaceful, law-abiding community; they were liked and admirede
but one aay a year or so ago, a prisoner in the penitentiary, a
sometime farm hand who had once worked on the Clutter farm, told
two fellow convicts, Richard kugene Hickock and Ferry kaward
smith, about a sate full of money that Herbert Clutter kept in
the housee The safe, like the local legend of Herbert Clutter's
great wealth, was a product of imagination, but that trivial
fable was the beginning of a twisted thread that for tbe Clutters
ended in terror and deathe

"Hi ckock and Smith, veteran lawbreakers sent to Lansing on
larceny and burlary raps were paroled in mid-= e Fortnight ago,
ending a man hunt set off by a tip from the imprisoned farm hand,
police in Las Vegas, Never arrested Hickock and Smith at the request
of the Kansas Bureau of Investigatione Weakefaced Richard Hickock,
28, @& runty (5 fte 4 ine) Perry Smith, » brokedown under yues=
tioning, Were arraigned last week on charges of murdere In NOvVe,
they confessed, they drove to the Clutter farm in the middlea of
the night, entered the house through an unlocked door, herded the
Clutters into «a bathroom at shotgun pointe Hickock stood guard
over them while Smith furtively searched for the imaginary safee

"after giving up hope of a big haul, the thugs oound and
gugged the Clutters, then cold-bloodedly slaughtered them one by
one, shooting each in the heard with a shotgun held a tew inches
aways Thep, after carefully collecting the fired shells the
killers Wurried away with their loots: a portable radio, a pair of
sun glasses, about $40 in cashe Why did they wurder the Clutters ?
Explained Hickock: ‘Wwe didn't want any witnesses.!”

TIME MAGAZINE, January , 1960 Page 16.

f Bi Sa Vf Db! fd ts
: ‘b 7 4 Y= YY CA aa (NM &= é LP Sy es
RICHARD E. HICKOCK AND PERRY E. SMITH (Kansas)

"The showeplace farm of Herbert Clutter, set in the peaceful
prosperous, pictyresbeek co west Gayden. City, Kans. (pope
11,000), seemed the Peticatate tite y As ee ee.
methodical murder. ind the Clutter family seemed the nation's
least likely victims. Herb Clutter, 48, a well-heeled wheat~
Grower, was just about the most prominent man in the regione He
was chairman of the Kansas Conference of Farm Organizations and
Copperatives, a former member of the federal Farm Credit Loard,

a civic leader who headed the building committee that got Garden
City's new Methodist Church translated from hope into bricke His
wife Honnie was active in the Methodist somen's Society of Chris-
tian Service. The Clutters! well-behaved teen-age Children, Kem
yon and Nancy, were popular, straight-A students at the local
hich school. Both were scheduled to receive 4-n awards at last
week's Finney County 4-H Achievement Banquet.

"They never collected their prizes,

"Every Sunday morning the Clutters took two neighboring fare
mers! teenase @aughters to the Methodist Church in Garden City,
Seven miles from the Clutter farm. When the two girls knocked mm
the door of the Clutter house on Sunday morning last week, nobody
answerede The only explanation they could think of seemed comimlly
out of charactor: the normally early-rising Clutters had overslgppt,.
Finding the door open, the two girls went inside, ambled upstairs
to wake Nancy. At the top of the stairs, they froze; Nancy was
lying on her bed, ber hands tied behind her back, ber face mangled
and bloody. Screaming, the girls turned and rane

"County Sheriff farl Robinson and Garden City police found
the other bodies: Wife Bonunile in an upstairs bedrcom, Herb Clutter
and his Son Kenyon in the basement. The killers had murdered coolly,
Systematically. They had bound thelr victims hand and foot with
nylon cord, gagged Nancy with a scarf and the othors With twoeinche
wide adhesive tape. Then, one by one, they had slaughtered the
Cluttérs, shooting each in the face with a shotgun held a few
inches away. Before or after Shooting Herbert Clutter, the mure
derers had cut Clutterts throate whatever terrible rage Seemed
inside them, the killers had kept their twisted wits; they had
ripped the house's two telephones from their wall jacks, and when
tuey departed took with them not only the shotgun but the fired
shells, a

"The sheriff sxka@ and the Kansas bureau of Investigation were
baffled. The crime soemed Motiveless, So far as the citizens of
the region knew, Clutter had no enemies, Searchers found no sign
of robbert:; jewelry and a wallet in plain viow had boen left un-
Couched. An examining physician certified that mother and daughter
had not been sexually molested,

"The killers lad left no clues behinde The Cord and tape they
used to bind and gag their victimes were stock items that could
have been purchased in any town in the Us S. There Were plenty 6f
fingerprints around, but the house of the busy, friendly Clutters
had been ‘like a railroad station,' as a neighbor put it, and the
prints could have belonged to any of numbrous visitors. One thing
seewied cortuin th the Clutters! friends and neighbors: so methodical
a crime could not have been committed by st@angers, who came upon
the farm by chancee ‘When this is cleared up,' said Clutter's
brother, 'I2l wager it was someones from within ten miles of where {bo

Wwe st ta

SLAUGHTER ON SUNDA

(TD April, 1960) ‘

In the early hours of Sunday, Novem-
ber 15, 1959, two ex-convicts, Richard
Eugene Hickock, 28, and Perry Edward
Smith, 31, invaded the Holcomb, Kan-
sas, home of Herbert Clutter, 48,
wealthy and prominent wheat farmer.
In the course of a robbery which netted
them $50 in cash, a portable radio and
a pair of binoculars, they brutally shot
to death Herbert Clutter, his wife Bon-
nie, 45, their daughter Nancy, 16, and
son Kenyon, 15.

Following a tip from an inmate of the
Kansas State Penitentiary, who said the
robbery plot was hatched while Hickock
and Smith were incarcerated there, the
two ex-cons were arrested on January 3,
1960, in Las Vegas, Nevada, and brought
back to face murder charges.

In Garden City, Kansas, on March
30th, an all-male jury found Richard
Hickock and Perry Smith guilty of mur-
der in the first degree and decreed death
on the gallows for both.

Nancy Clutter

THE SECRET LIFE
OF DR. FINCH

(TD November, 1959)

The secret life of Dr. Raymond Ber-
nard Finch, 41, and his mistress, red-
haired Carole Tregoff, 22, has been no
secret from the public during the past
three months while they were ori trial

for the murder of Dr. Finch’s wife Bar-

bara, on July 18, 1959, at the swanky
Finch home in West Covina, California.

The case went to the jury of five men
and seven women in the court of Judge
Walter R. Evans in Los Angeles on
March 4, 1960. After eight days of de-
liberation, later revealed to have been
marked by stormy scenes, the jury re-
ported to Judge Evans on March 12th
that it was hopelessly deadlocked. The
vote was later disclosed to have been 10
to 2 to convict Dr. Finch, 8 to 4 to acquit
Carole.

On March 18th Superior Judge John
G. Barnes granted Carole bail of $25,000,
and Carole was released.

THE CORPSE IN THE
SWIMMING POOL

(TD February, 1960)

Chelcie Tidd Jr., 32, an efficient busi-
ness executive for an aluminum com-
pany, also was a popular playboy and a
church member. He made friends easily,
sometimes with persons of doubtful
reputation, whom he met at night clubs
and bars. One of the latter was James
Jerome Seitz, 23, an ex-convict with a
record.

On October 25, 1959, the body of
Chelcie Tidd was found floating in the
swimming pool of the home Tidd shared
with a friend, a knife thrust into his
back.

Clues were a shirt the slayer left be-
hind and some fingerprints. These led
to the arrest on November 6th, in Mi-
ami, of James Seitz on a charge of first-
degree murder. Seitz claimed that Tidd
had invited him to his home, then
threatened to call the cops and have him
arrested. In the ensuing struggle, Seitz
struck Tidd with a statuette, then
stabbed him and threw him into the
pool. ;

On March 24, 1960, a 12-man circuit
court jury, after 90 minutes’ delibera-
tion, found Seitz guilty of first-degree
murder. The jury recommended mercy,
which carried a-mandatory life sentence.

Seitz threw the court into an uproar
by shouting obscenities and screaming,
“This isn’t a fair trial!’ Judge Harold R.
Vann rejected Defense Attorney Al
Killiam’s motion for a mistrial, and de-
ferred delivering the mandatory sen-
tence of life imprisonment.

Report of latest legal developments
on eases published by TD

THE CORPSE IN THE
EVENING GOWN

(TD March, 1960)

Lillian Lenorak, 42, Hollywood film
technician and a former ballet dancer,
was found bludgeoned to death in the
desert near Palm Springs, California, on
November 7, 1959. Broken pistol grips
found near the body were traced to Tord
Ove Zeppen-Field, 21, son of a former
Olympic swimming star and operator of
a motel where the victim had been liv-
ing.

Arrested November 17th at Hermosil-
lo, Mexico, Tord confessed forcing Mrs.
Lenorak into his car at gun point and
driving her into the desert and killing
her. He gave no motive for the crime.

In the court of Superior Judge Hilton
McCabe in Indio, California, Tord, a
would-be cowboy, pleaded guilty on
March 1, 1960, to first-degree murder.

On March 22nd, after studying the
complete record of psychiatric exami-
nations of the confessed slayer, Judge
McCabe sentenced Tord Ove Zeppen-
Field to life imprisonment.

BABY DIDN'T WANT TO GO HOME

(TD August, 1959)

In Akron, Ohio, on May 1, 1959, Mrs.
Eula May Brandt, 36, a pretty waitress,
was enjoying an evening in a tavern
with her boy friend. When he was ready
to leave, she wanted to stay. He gave
her some money and departed. A couple
of hours later she left with a young man
who offered her a ride home. Her nude
body was found the next day in a
wooded glade. She had been beaten and
strangled. Her clothes were found some
distance away.

Frank Cinalt Jr., 29, was identified
as the young man with whom Mrs.
Brandt had left the tavern. Bloodstains
in his car, whose tire tracks matched
those found at the scene, were accusing
evidence. Cinalt confessed the crime
and was held on a first-degree murder
charge.

Tried before a tribunal of common

“pleas judges, Cinalt was convicted on

October 29, 1959, and on November 3rd
he was sentenced to life imprisonment
in the Ohio State Penitentiary at Co-
lumbus.

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TRIAL

APPEALS

SOuURC

HICKUCK, Richard, and
SMITH, Perry, whites,

(Finley County) on
4/14/1965555

A happy family circle
was presented by the
Clutters before college,
marriage—and gunfire
shattered their household

call to the 300 residents of tiny

Holcomb, Kansas, that bright and
crisp Sunday morning of horror, No-
vember 15, 1959, as Clarence Ewalt
turned his sedan down the mile-long,
tree-lined lane leading to the comfort-
able home where Herb Clutter, promi-
nent farmer and stockman, lived with
his wife, Bonnie, and two teen-aged
youngsters.

It was shortly before nine a. m. and
the sun was shining in a cloudless sky.
Despite the general air of inactivity, an
occasional car or truck stirred up a
brown dust cloud on Holcomb’s dirt
main street, and several young children,
dressed for Sunday school, Played near
the cluster of small homes surrounding
the grade school.

Nancy Ewalt, Clarence’s sixteen-year-
old daughter, and her friend, Susan
Kidwell, hardly waited for the car to

Caio bells chimed their weekly

CMF FICIAL

Kansas’ Latest Sensation:

WHO KILLED FOUR

Shotgun blasts killed the father, mother, son and daughte

stop rolling before they hopped’ out
and bounded up the hedge-lined walk
calling to their schoolmate, sixteen-
year-old Nancy Clutter.

In a stockpen about 100 yards west of
the spacious two-story brick and frame
house, Alfred Stoecklein, who had
worked on the Clutter ranch for sev-
eral years, herded a few stragglers from
the cattle yard. Nearby, Victor Irsik and
three of his*six sons went about the
early-morning chores necessary to the
operation of the 298-acre farm.

The two girls ran up the stairs lead-
ing to the concrete porch behind the
kitchen and pushed open the door,
which never was locked. Every Sunday
for several months the two teen-agers
had been calling at the Clutter home
to take their classmate and her fifteen-
year-old brother, Kenyon, to church.

Outside, Ewalt said to his wife, “I
sure wish those two would hurry——”

An ear-piercing scream burst from
the house—a girl’s scream of terror.

Ewalt leaped from the car and
sprinted for the house, his progress
speeded by more screams.

As he reached the walk he was met by
his daughter. Stark terror filled the
girl’s eyes.

“Daddy! Oh, Daddy! They’re dead!
Nancy’s dead—they're all dead!” She
ran into her father's outstretched arms.

Ewalt urged his daughter into the car,
then apprehensively entered the Clutter
home. As he_ hurried through the
kitchen toward the stairs he saw that
the telephone wires leading to the ex-
tension phone had been jerked from
the wall. He ran upstairs. Living only
three miles north of the Clutter home,
he had been a frequent visitor and knew
which rooms were occupied by the
various members of the family. Nancy’s
was the first one.

APRIL (Gb O

As he entered Nancy’s room, Ewalt
saw a large teddy-bear propped up in
an overstuffed chair against the wall.
The bear’s button eyes seemed trans-
fixed on the macabre scene which
stopped the horrified farmer at the
threshold.

Nancy lay in the center of her bed
facing a blood-splattered wall. She had
been bound hand and foot with what
appeared to be nylon sash cord. A silk
scarf which she had used to tie up her
pin curls the night before was pulled
tight through her mouth and tied in a
blood-soaked knot at the back of her
head. She had been shot.

Blood from a near-contact wound in
the back of her head stained the bed a
hideous red and painted a bizarre mo-
Saic on the nearby wall.

Ewalt felt a sweep of nausea as he
backed from the room. He rushed
quickly to the next bedroom, occupied

By E. J. Hay

DE TECT! VE STORIES

The Four Clutters (from page 30)

room scrubbing up the last traces of
blood. E

“I've worked here for years and I can’t
understand it,” he said to one of the
officers posted at the scene. He pointed
to a baby crib near one wall of the girl’s
room. “She kept that crib there because
she loved children. She used to take
care of ours and some of those belong-
ing to friends who visited the family.
My three little ones thrived on the love
Miss Nancy gave them.”

The cleanup work was done by mid-
afternoon. When the crews left the
farm, teams of investigators again
searched for anything which could
point an accusing finger to the killers,

As far as they could tell, nothing in
the spacious farm home had been dis-
turbed. Both cars owned by the Clutter
family were in the garage.

What had the killer taken? Why had
he come to this Peaceful prairie farm
to slaughter an innocent family?

Clutter was known in the community
as a “book farmer,” who Paid even small
combined with the
‘did not appear to
almost ruled out

robbery as the motive, Dewey and,

Sheriff Robinson agreed.

THE investigators decided to explore
the possibility that Clutter, who had

The men who had been assigned to
search for the death weapon insjde and
outside the farmhouse, reported no suc-

That night, a highly upset young man
appeared at the investigative headquar-
ters at the courthouse in Garden City
to report that he might have been the
last person to see the Clutter family
alive. He had taken Nancy to a school
affair Saturday evening. They had re-
turned to the Clutter farmhouse at 9:30
and he had stayed for about an hour,
chatting with Nancy and her parents.

“Was Kenyon there, too?” asked
Dewey.

“Yes. He was up in his bedroom lis-
tening to his portable radio.” ‘

“And what time did you leave?”

“About half-past ten, sir.” :

“Did you see anyone loitering about?”
Dewey asked. “Did you meet anyone on
Clutter’s road or Notice a car parked
near there?”
sir. I just went on home and
know what had happened until]
the following morning.”

Robinson had grown quiet. Some-
thing that the young man had said set
a new train of thought in motion. He
sat back in his chair, eyes on the ceiling.

“Did you say Kenyon was listening to
a radio in his room?” he asked finally,

The boy nodded.

“What kind of radio? Did you ever
see it?”

“Sure. I remember when Kenyon got
it. Jt was a really nice Portable, sir.
Gray and a sort of turquoise blue. He
kept it on the table by the bed.” __

Robinson was silent again. Then he

_ feeling of

said, “Okay, son. You can go now. If
you remember anything that might help
us, let us know.”

After he was gone, the sheriff turned
to Dewey. “Do you remember a radio in
that room?”

The agent said he did not. The of-
ficers left Garden City and drove to the
Clutter farmhouse, which had_ been
locked securely, Robinson took out a
key and let himself into the foyer. Fol-
lowed by Dewey, he wen} directly to the
boy’s bedroom. One look told him the
story. No portable radio was in the
room. ‘

Had the killer or killers passed upa
houseful of more valuable items to take
only a table radio? The investigators
had no reason to doubt the young man
who had visited Nancy Clutter. A table

radio was played on the night that he:

was at the Clutter home and the night
that the family was killed. Where was
it now?

Dewey and Robinson Searched the
house quickly, then went to Clutter’s
office and the garage. They found no
table radio anywhere. ;

The officers returned to Garden City
deep in thought. They made out reports
describing the missing radio, and early
the next morning Police throughout
Kansas and Colorado canvassed pawn-
shops for it.

As the investigation moved into its
third day without a break in sight, a

fear mingled with the grief
which gripped the tiny farm community
of Holcomb and nearby Garden City.
Farmers who for years never had locked
their doors, descended on hardware
stores in a search for locks, guns and
ammunition,

While the agents pushed their probe
the grief-stricken community paused
on Wednesday to honor and bury their
dead. More than 1,200 Persons crowded
into every seat, aisle and wing of the
church to witness the mass funeral. KBI
Agent Dewey, as an old family friend,
was one of the pallbearers.

With the Clutter family _ buried,
Dewey again pushed the investigation

t full speed. The rope samples were
taken to every store which sold such
merchandise in the county, with disap-
Pointing results. The rope was a peculiar
nylon type which was rather uncom-
mon, the officers learned. Two places
carried such rope, but the store owners
did not remember anyone to whom they
had sold it.

A round-up of known criminals who
had come from the Garden City area
was the next step. Oo men were de-
tailed to this work, which meant inquiry

Hickock's friend, Perry Edward
Smith, who mailed himself a trap

at prisons and jails, as well as various
Police headquarters, ag far east as Kan-
sas City and as far west as Denver,
Colorado.

The dozens of leads Rrew to hundreds,
A bloody shirt was found 50 miles away
in a ditch. Investigation found it to be
the covering used by a hunter to wrap
the body of a dead Pheasant. Two shot-
guns were reported stolen from a car in
Dodge City. Agents
solved the theft, without tying it

the investigators sent out
State-wide bulletins seeking help. Re-
Ports of stolen cars were run down
every day. The case file.grew.

Then, on December 1Q,, Sheriff Rob-
inson received a telephone call from a
resident of Holcomb. He had Passed the
boarded-up Clutter Place in his car and
saw a man run from the house toward
the barn, he said. ‘

Robinson and Deputy Sheriff Mickey
Hawkins sped to the farm and pulled
into the yard as quietly as possible.
They got out and circled the house cau-
tiously and reached the barn.

The sheriff opened a small door that

to a passageway beside several
cow Stalls. All the animals had been re-
moved. The barn was dark and silent
except for the prairie wind that whined
through wall cracks, With the animals

and much of the machinery moved out,.

the cavernous building echoed every
sound. Robinson and Hawkins slipped
inside and closed the door behind them,
A kind of twilight descended on them.
They stood for a moment adjusting to
the dim light.

HEY heard a thumping sound then.
It came from the other side of the
barn and they moved in its direction.
The sound incre: - Robinson was
about to step through an open doorway

‘when he drew back and pointed.

A man sat on a work bench staring at
the floor. He was idly swinging a heavy-
shoed foot against the side of the bench,
accounting for the thumping noise.
Obviously he had not noticed the

officers,
Robinson and Hawkins _ stepped
through the doorway and the man

turned with the quickness of an animal.
He sprang from the bench without his
hands touching it. A pistol was strapped
around his waist.

In the dim light, he looked warily at
the two men, : :

“Who are you?” he asked.

“Keep your hand away from that
gun,” Hawkins said.

“T ain't gonna touch it,” the man said.
“Who are you?”

“We're police officers.”

The man’s eyes narrowed, He said
nothing.

“Now I’m going to walk up to you and
remove that gun,” Hawkins Said, “and
the sheriff here is going to take care of
you good if you make a wrong move.”

“Sure,” the man replied.

Hawkins removed the gun and di-
rected the man to a nearby door. Out-
side, he was hustled to the sheriff's car,
Hawkins got in back with him and Rob-
inson sat in front.

The sheriff turned to face the man.
“Now, who are you?” he asked.

“Ed Davis.” ~ —

He was a youngish man who ap-
in his late 30’s. A short,
heavy coat hung loosely on his spare,
tall frame. He had several days’ growth
of beard.

“You a cowhand?” Robinson asked.

“Some.”

et were you doing with that Pis-
tol?”
“Target shooting,” Davis said. “I like
to shoot at things.”
dered to the prairie which looked for-
bidding in the cold light of an overcast
sky. “Lots of things to shoot out there.”
“You from around these Parts?” the
sheriff asked.
“Just drifting.”
“What were you doing in that barn?”
“Curious. Looking around. That’s
where them folks was killed, ain’t it?”
“How did you get here?”

His glance wan-‘

Richard Eugene Hickock, whose

boots had a distinctive design

“Walked some. Rode Some when folks
would give me a ride, I walked over here
from Highway Fifty.”

Robinson started the motor and drove
onto the dirt road that led to the high-
way.

“Wait a minute,” Davis said. “I got
something to tell you,”

Robinson jammed on the brakes,
“Well?”

“First, what are
do with me?” ;

“Take you to Garden City and put you
in a warm cell, That’s better than walk-
ing the highway.”

“That’s what I thought you were go-
ing to do,” Davis said. “I didn’t quite
tell the truth back there. I got a car
Parked up the road & way. Back the
other direction.” .

“What was the idea of lying about
it?” Robinson asked as he turned the
car around. “We'd have found it

you fellows going to

gauge, the same type that the killer had
used.

Hawkins picked up the gun carefully
and sniffed the barrel. It had been fired
recently. He placed both gun and knife
in the sheriff's car,

HALP an hour later Davis and the two

officers were at the sheriff’s office in
Garden City.

The officers hammered questions at
him. Davis-insisted that he simply was
a drifter who had visited the farm out
of curiosity.

“Okay. We'll give
cell to think about it.” Robinson stood
up. “I guess you can furnish an alibi for
November fifteenth?”

, Sure. Sure I can. I was in Kansas

City. I remember.”
binson motioned him to the door,

where a deputy waited to book him and
Place him in a cell. “Your memory’s
too good, Davis,” the sheriff said as the
tall man went through the doorway.

Davis stopped. “Maybe it is pretty
Bood. I could tell you something I heard
in a barroom one night in Joplin. It’s
“= of the reasons I wanted to see that
arm.” ‘

Robinson Signaled-to the deputy to
wait. “Go ahead.”

“This fellow in the bar had been in

you a night in q-

The county attorne
and the undersheriff
with the weapons
used to kill four

KBI agent Al Dewey

took time out from

the search to hel
ury his good ‘lands

Knots that cattlemen
call a clove and a

half-hitch held four

for their execution

followed by two ambulances. By this
time Sheriff Robinson and Rohleder
had finished a preliminary inspection

. of the inside of the house and were .

searching the grounds near the two
outside doors for any clues that might
have been left by the killer or killers.
The taking of even one life is a rare
tragedy in Garden City, a farm com-

Finney County and especially in the
community of Garden City, known
as a haven for one of this country’s
few remaining herds of buffilo. In the
past four years no major crimes of vio-
lence had been reported and only a few
minor thefts, bogus checks and dis-
turbances dotted the Police records.

later.

THE gears of the investigation meshed

into action. West notified Captain
Gerald Murray, chief of the sixth di-
vision of the Kansas highway patrol,
who ordered a nineteen-county road
block. All suspicious cars were stopped.
Hitchhikers were questioned. Tran-
sients and bums found themselves
guests in county jails where they were
held for questioning.

Meanwhile, the county attorney, leay-
ing the death scene to be searched by

The KBI, as it is known in Kansas, is
patterned after the FBI. Nineteen
agents are assigned to the bureau and
work directly under the supervision of
Attorney General John Anderson, Jr,
One team of agents operates out of the
main headquarters in Topeka and resi-

dent agents are assigned to the major -

Population centers of the state.
Sanford answered West's call and
Promised immediate aid. He quickly
telephoned Wichita, the state’s largest
city, where Garden City’s resident

agent, Al Dewey, veteran investigator,

was working on another case.

“Al, you'd better get home as quickly
as possible; I’m afraid you have a real
bad one on your hands,” the director
said over the long-distance wires. “Four
People by the name of Clutter have been
shotgunned to death. T'll see you out
there later today.”

Dewey, who looks more like a lean,
bronzed, high-school coach than a de-
tective, almost dropped the receiver
when Sanford mentioned the victims’
name. He was a long-time friend of the
Clutter family and often had visited in
their home.

With Dewey on the way, Sanford sur-
veyed his reserves and quickly built
an investigative team. In Topeka he
rounded up small, balding and grizzled
Roy Church and Agent Harold Nye and
headed west after alerting Agent Wen-
dell Cowan, the state’s polygraph ex-
Pert, to be ieady to g0 to Garden City

“Heyb’s throat was Slashed with some
sort of heavy knife flso and I think
either wound would have been fatal.”

When Doctor Fenton said that
neither Mrs. Clutter hor Nancy had
been sexually molested, West breathed a
sigh of relief. .

“Well, at least we don't have a sex
psychopath on the loose in the com-
munity,” he said to the coroner. “We
have enough on our hands without
that.”

As he left the hospital for the court-
house offices of Sheriff Robinson, West
thought over the events of the past few
hours. Four members of a wealthy farm
family had been Slain. No apparent
motive, no weapon and no visible ex-
planation for the wanton massacre had
been turned up. Neither the Stoecklein
family nor the Irsiks had heard the
shots or seen anyone enter or leave the
house. However the distance of their
homes and their location in relation to
the farmhouse could explain this, he
realized,

West saw the lights over the desk as
he passed the office where Editor Brown
was writing the story of the massacre
for Monday's edition of the Telegram,
He remembered that the editor had been
a long-time friend of Herb and Bonnie
Clutter and knew the four Clutter chil-

Sanford, with Agents Church and
Nye, already had reached Sheriff Rob-
inson’s offices on the third floor of the
limestone courthouse when West en-
tered. Dewey was expected momen-
tarily. A fog was moving into town in
the first hours of early darkness and
the street lights cast a hazy glow on
the line of official cars near the bronze
replica of the Statue of Liberty in the
courthouse yard. It was going to be a
cold night.

W!TH the arrival of Dewey, Sheriff
Robinson and Undersherifft Meier,

bits of rope which had been cut from
the victims’ hands and feet were exam-

monly used in the cattle country.

The pictures Rohleder had taken at
the scene were enlarged and examined.
At first nothing new was noticed, but
closer study of the pictures of Clutter’s
body showed something. On the card-
board mattress cover on which the body
had been sprawled, the flash of the Pho-
tographer’s bulb brought to light some-
thing which had been invisible to the
naked eye: a set of footprints. The
Prints had been made by a work-boot
with a peculiar diamond-shaped design
on the sole,

Monday morning brought the first
written words on the tragic slayings to
the townspeople. As details of the mass
Slaying swept through the community
of Garden City, a steady stream of cars

Serve any evidence as the morbidly
curious swarmed to the scene.

At the Clutter farm, friends of the
slain family moved about the house
cleaning up the last reminders of Sun-
day's tragedy. Alfred Stoecklein shook
his head Slowly and muttered to him-
self as he crawled about Nancy’s bed-

(Continued on page 60)

Ly
* : 4
: Pe )

SANE

IF THE CLUTTERS?

their prairie farm

by Mrs. Clutter. There the chilling scene
was duplicated. The 45-year-old farm
wife lay diagonally across her bed. Her
nightgown was a scarlet shroud from
the blood which had spurted from a
horrible wound in the side of her face.
She too had been bound hand and foot
with the nylon rope, then shot. :Adhe-
sive tape had been used as a crude gag
across her mouth.

Again the farmer fought down the
sickness rising in his throat. He ran
to the third bedroom and found it
empty. .

“Herb, Kenyon, where are you?” he
called.

From the second-floor death rooms
Ewalt ran back to the kitchen and into
the small adjoining office, from which
Clutter had operated his wheat and cat-

tle business. Besides -his farm, the -

prosperous farmer handled almost 1,000
acres of wheatland and ran about 200

home, without meaning or clue

head of registered cattle. With the help
of Irsik, who had worked for the Clutter
family for fourteen years, and Stoeck-

‘lein, who lived in a smaller house west

of the main home, Clutter also raised
sheep and a few hogs.

Finding the office, kitchen and liv-
ing rooms empty, Ewalt started down a
flight of concrete steps to the base-
ment. There he discovered why his calls
had gone unanswered. The 48-year-old
farmer lay on a cardboard mattress car-
ton against one wall. His face was
nearly torn away from the. effects of a
shotgun charge which must have struck
him almost point-blank. Blood from his
mutilated throat had poured a crimson
bib onto the front of his pajamas. The
remains of an adhesive-tape gag still
clung to his shattered jaw; again, white.
nylon cord had been used to tie his
hands and feet. _

On a couch in the adjoining recrea-

cial Investigator for OFFICIAL DETECTIVE STORIES

tion room, Ewalt found the body of
Kenyon Clutter. The fifteen-year-old
honor student, basketball and track star
at Holcomb high school had been killed
by a shotgun blast in the face. He, too,
had been tied with nylon cord and
gagged with adhesive tape.

Ewalt immediately ran to the small
office to telephone the police, but these
wires, too, had been pulled from the
wall. He rushed outside to his car and
sped the two miles to the Kidwell home,
where he telephoned police and the Fin-
ney County sheriff’s office in Garden
City, seven miles east of Holcomb on
U.S Highway 50.

Sheriff Earl Robinson, Undersheriff
Wendell Meier and Investigator Rich-
ard Rohleder, the assistant chief of
Garden City police, ran to their cars and
i west to answer Ewalt’s plea for
nelp.

At the farmhouse, a small crowd had

From their rich farm to
the tiny town of Holcomb
and the larger center of
Garden City, the Clutters

were loved and respected

gathered, including members of_ the
Irsik family and neighbors who lived on
— Places bordering the Clutter prop-
erty.

“Keep those people out of here,” Rob-
inson told Meier as he and Rohleder
followed Ewalt into the house.

A few minutes later they came out
again, the shock of the grisly reality re-
flected in their ashen-hued faces.

“Get to a phone and call the county
attorney and some ambulances,” the
sheriff instructed Meier. “Tell them to
bring four litters. They’re all dead.”

While Meier was en route to a neigh-
boring farm to make the necessary tele-
phone calls, the sheriff and Investigator
Rohleder took several evidence pictures.
It was almost eleven a. m. by the time
the two cars carrying Duane West, 28-
year-old Finney County attorney, and
Bill Brown, editor of the Garden City
Telegram, pulled into the farmyard,

Chung Yi Miao

executed a newspaper article suggested that he
killed his wife in order that he might marry a
woman who would give him children.

[131, 462, 493]

CLEFT CHIN MURDER. See JONES and
HULTEN

CLEMENTS, Dr Robert. A 57-year-old doctor
and Fellow of the Royal College of Surgeons who
murdered his fourth wife with morphine, and
possibly the first three too.

On 26 May 1947 Dr Robert George Clements
called in a fellow-physician to attend his wife, who
was ill in their Southport home. Mrs Clements was
taken to a nursing-home, where she died the
following day of an illness diagnosed as mycloid

leukaemia.
Doctors carrying out a post-mortem noticed the

pin-pointed pupils of the dead woman’s eyes. An
overdose of morphine was suspected. Inquiries
showed that Mrs Clements’s health had deterio-
rated over a long period, during which she had
experienced vomiting and lethargy. Friends
complained that they couldno longer keepintouch
with the sick woman because her husband had had
the telephone removed. Finally, when it became
known that Dr Clements had prescribed morphine
for a patient who never received it, Mrs Clements’s
funeral was stopped and a second post-mortem
ordered.

It was clearly established that Mrs Clements
had died of morphine poisoning. When the police
called on Dr Clements they found him dead—he
had taken his own life with an overdose of
morphine. Dr James Houston, who first examined
the body, also committed suicide, appalled at his
wrong diagnosis.

A Coroner’s Court found Dr Clements to be the
murderer of his wife, whose death would have
made him heir to her considerable fortune. His 3
previous wives, all substantially well off, had died
of various diseases which Dr Clements had
recorded above his signature on their death
certificates, and wife No. 3 had been cremated just
before the police arrived to claim the body for an
autopsy.

Unlike Dr Robert Buchanan, Clements had made
no attempt to conceal the tell-tale morphine pin-
pointing of his victim’s eyes.

[152, 315]

CLUTTER MURDERS. The brutal murder
of 4 members of the Clutter family at Holcomb,

Coetzee, Jacobus Hendrik

Kansas, on 15 November 1959 was the subject of
Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood.

Herbert Clutter, a wheat-grower and respected
citizen of the Kansas community at Holcomb, was
found dead with his throat cut and shot through
the head in the basement of his home, River Valley
Farm. His wife and teenaged son and daughter
were also found in the house savagely murdered by
shotgun wounds inflicted at close range. The
victims had been bound at the wrists and 3 of
them gagged. The murderer had collected the
empty shell-cases, and had robbed the house.

The key to the murders was provided by an
inmate of Kansas State Penitentiary, Floyd Wells.
He had once worked for Clutter, and during a
previous gaol sentence, had shared a cell with a
man named Richard Eugene Hickock. The two
men talked about jobs they had done, and Clutter’s
name was mentioned by Wells. Hickock
questioned him intently. Was Clutter wealthy?
Did he keep a safe? There was talk that Hickock,
aided by one Perry Smith, would rob the Clutter
place and silence all the witnesses.

When Wells heard of the murders he told the
Prison Warden. Hickock and Smith were found in
Las Vegas. On being confronted with footprint
evidence placing him at the scene, Hickock said,
‘Perry Smith killed the Clutters—I couldn’t stop
him. He killed them all.’ The two men believed
that Clutter kept $10000 in his safe. They only
netted between 40 and 50 dollars.

Hickock and Smith were tried at Kansas City
in March 1960. Hickock was known to suffer
intense headaches following a car crash in 1950,
and Smith was considered to be paranoid. In his
confession Smith said of Clutter, “He was a nice
gentleman. . . I thought so right up to the moment
I cut his throat.’ Hickock said Smith shot all 4
victims: Smith said he killed only the women.

Hz sing been reminded by the prosecutor about
‘chicken-hearted jurors’ who refused to do their
duty, the jury found each accused man guilty onall
4 counts of murder. Richard Hickock, aged 33, and
Perry Smith, aged 36, were hanged at Lansing,
Kansas, in April 1965.

[162]

COETZEE, Jacobus Hendrik. Young South
African detective whose promising career as a
police officer was shattered when he killed a
pregnant girl.

The body of ayoung girl, badly bruised and with
torn clothes, was found near the railway line at a
spot some 126 miles from Pretoria on 1 February

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Perry Smith (left) and Richard Hickock were hanged for the 1959 slaying of the Clutter family of Holcomb, Kansas.

Their film counterparts, Robert Blake (left) and Scott Wilson, had to be “unknowns” who resembled the originals.

frighten. The present owner gave Brooks per-
mission to film there; a considerable amount of
the original furniture was still on hand, and
Brooks’s chief assistant, Tom Shaw, has done an
extraordinary job of tracking down and retrieving
the departed pieces. The rooms looked precisely
the same as they had when I examined them in
December, 1959—that is, soon after the crime
was discovered. Mr. Clutter’s Stetson hanging
on a wall hat rack. Nancy’s sheet music open at
the piano. Her brother’s spectacles resting on a
bureau, the lenses shimmering in sunlight.

“But it was the Venetian blinds that I noticed—
that I, as it were, ‘framed.’ The blinds cover the
windows of Mr. Clutter’s office, the room by
which the murderers entered the house. Upon
entering, Dick had parted the Venetian slats and
peered through them to see if any witnesses were
lurking in the moonlit night; again, on departing,
and after the immense noise of the shootings,
Dick’s eyes had explored the landscape through
the slats, his heart pounding for fear that the
crash of four shotgun blasts might have roused
the countryside. And now the actor who is im-
personating Dick, and who is so uncannily like
Dick, is on the verge of repeating these actions.
Yet eight years have passed, the Clutter family
are gone, and Dick is dead, but the Venetian
blinds still exist, still hang at the same windows.

Thus reality, via an object, extends itself into
art; and that is what is original and disturbing
about this film: Reality and art are intertwined
to the point that there is no identifiable area of
demarcation.

“Almost the whole of the murder sequence is
being photographed in total darkness—except for
the use of flashlights. This has never been done
before because ordinarily a flashlight is in-
capable of producing light sufficiently powerful to
register a scene without the aid of extra illumina-
tion. In the present case, however, the produc-
tion’s technicians have invented flashlights fixed
with special batteries that generate solid shafts of
white blaze—extremely effective as the beams
wander in the darkness, crossing and crisscrossing.

“Brooks’s attention to detail can occasionally
be comic. Today he noticed that between takes
inside the Clutter house several of the crew were
smoking cigarettes. Suddenly he clapped his hands
and shouted, ‘All right! Cut that out! Mr. Clutter
never allowed anyone to smoke in this house,
so I’m not going to allow it either.’”’

Presently undermined by flu and the strain of
reliving painful events, I left Brooks and. his
company to get on with their work free of my
critical surveillance. No director can abide an
author staring over his shoulder; and, agreeable
as our relationship was, I sensed that Brooks felt

my presence made everyone edgy, himself in-”
cluded. He was not unhappy to see me go.

Returning to New York, I was surprised to find
that few people asked me how the film was pro-
gressing. Rather, they were curious to know what
the reaction of the townspeople was to the fact of
the film’s being made in their midst: Was the at-
mosphere antagonistic? Cooperative? What? To
answer the question, I have to refer to my own
experiences during the years I spent roaming
around Finney County, accumulating material.

When I arrived there in 1959 I knew no one,
and no one, except the local librarian and several
schoolteachers, had ever heard of me. As it hap-
pened, the first person I interviewed turned out
to be the only genuine enemy I made there—at
least the only one both openly and covertly hos-
tile (a contradiction in terms, but nevertheless
accurate). This fellow was, and is, the editor of
the local daily paper, the Garden City Telegram,
and therefore in a position to constantly publicize
his belligerent attitude toward me and the work
I was attempting to do. His columns are signed
Bill Brown, and he is as plain as his name: A thin,
rumpled man with mud-colored eyes and a beige
complexion. Of course I understood his resent-
ment, and at first sympathized with it: Here was
this “New York” writer, as he often drawlingly
described me, invading his terrain and presuming
to write a book about a “‘sordid’’ subject that was
best swept away and forgotten. His continuous
theme was: ‘‘We want to forget our tragedy, but
this New York writer isn’t going to let us.”
Therefore it came as no surprise when Brown
started a campaign to prevent Brooks from film-
ing the Kansas scenes in Garden City and Hol-
comb. Now his theme was that the advent of
these ‘Hollywood people’ would attract ‘“‘un-
desirable elements,” and everything in Finney
County would go to hell. Huffed and puffed, did
Mr. Brown, but his efforts failed. For the simple
reason that most of the people I met in western
Kansas are reasonable and helpful; I couldn’t
have survived if it hadn’t been for their consistent
kindness, and I made friends among them that
will last a lifetime.

That was in March of last year. In September
I traveled to California to see a rough cut of the
finished film. On arrival, I had a meeting with
Brooks, who was screening the picture for me the
following day. Brooks is a very secretive man;
he hoards his scripts, locks them up at night, and
never lets anyone read a complete version. Shoot-
ing on Jn Cold Blood had ended in June, and
since that time Brooks had worked only with a
cutter and a projectionist, not allowing anyone
else to view a foot of the film. As we talked he
seemed under the kind of whitened strain one
does not associate with so assertive and vigorous
a man. “Of course I’m nervous,” he said. “Why
shouldn’t I be? It’s your book—and suppose you
don’t like it?”

And suppose you don’t like it? Excellent ques-
tion; and, strangely, one I’d never asked myself,
principally because I had chosen the ingredients,
and I always have faith in my own judgment.

The next day, when I arrived at Columbia
studios around noon, Brooks was even more
nervous. My God, he was glum! He said: “I’ve
had some rough moments with this picture. But
today’s the roughest."’ On that note we walked
into the screening room, and the sensation was
not unlike entering a death cell.

Brooks picked up a telephone connected with
the projectionist’s booth. ‘‘All right. Let’s go.”

The lights dimmed. The white screen turned
into a highway at twilight: Route 50 winding
under draining skies through a countryside empty
as a cornhusk, woebegone as wet leaves. In the
far horizon a silvery Greyhound bus appears, en-

larges as it hummingly approaches, streaks by.
Music: solitary guitar. Now the credits start as
the image changes, dissolves into the Greyhound’s
interior. Slumber hangs heavily. Only a weary
little girl roams the aisle, gradually wandering
toward the darkened rear, lured there by the
lonely, disconnected plunk-plunk-plunk of a gui-
tar. She finds the player, but we do not see him;
she says something to him, but we cannot quite
hear what it is. The guitarist strikes a match to
light a cigarette, and the flame partially illumi-
nates his face—Perry’s face, Perry’s eyes, sleepy,
remote. Dissolve to Dick, then to Dick and Perry
in Kansas City, then to Holcomb, and Herbert
Clutter breakfasting on the final day of his life,
then back to his future executioners: the contra-
puntal technique I used in writing the book.

The scenes move with striking fluidity, but I
am increasingly gripped by a sense of loss; and a
ring forms around my heart, like the frosty haze
around a harvest moon. Not because of what is
on the screen, which is fine, but because of what
isn’t. Why has such-and-such been omitted? Where
is Bobby Rupp? Susan Kidwell? The postmistress
and her mother? In the midst of my dilemma of
not being able to concentrate appreciatively on
what was there because of what wasn’t, the film
caught fire--literally. One could see the tiny fire
burning on the screen, a zipper of flame that

The trial—filmed in the courthouse where, in March, 1960, Smith and Hickock were convicted and condemned lo death.

separated the images and crisped them. In the
silence following the abrupt halt, Brooks said,
“Nothing serious. Just an accident. It’s happened
before. We'll have it fixed in a minute.”

A lucky accident, for during the time it took
the projectionist to repair the damage and resume
the screening I managed to resolve the quarrel |
was having with myself. Look, an inner voice said,
you're being unrealistic, unfair. This picture is
two hours long, and that is as long as it can
reasonably be. If Brooks included everything you
would like to have shown, every nuance you're
grieving over, it would last nine hours! So stop
worrying. Watch it for what it is: Judge from that.

I did, and it was like swimming into a familiar
sea Only to be surprised by a muscular wave of
sinister height, trapped in a hurtling current that
carried me downward to ocean-floor depths, es-
corted me, pummeled raw and groggy, onto a
beach uniquely desolate—not, unfortunately, the
victim of a bad dream, or of “just a movie,” but
of reality.

The screen returned to its pristine state; over-
head lighting resumed. But again, as in the motel
room in Garden City, I seemed to wake up not
knowing where I was. A man was sitting near me.
Who was he, and why did he look at me so in-
tently, as if expecting me to say something? Ah,
Brooks. Finally I said: ‘‘By the way, thank you.”’ [|

The NEW

VIURDERERS’
Who’s Who

J. H. H. Gaute and Robin Odell

Forewords by

Colin Wilson and Richard Whittington-Egan

DORSET PRESS

New York i"

er a month. The file
yeen started with the
g out of a tip re-
BI office directing the
- Clutter case. It was
0 tips that came in, in
od, and was followed
is each lead was.
come from a former
jerb Clutter, a man
ed on the farm—and
n inmate of the Kansas
wy at the same time
-ock were serving their
hearing the accounts
massacre, the man had
versation he had had
iore than a year earlier
ird. While talking with
nbered, he perhaps had
2 about knowing such
man as Herb Clutter
: that the wealthy farm-
sands of dollars” in a
nhouse. He hadn’t real-
ut any such safe, the
but it had made for a
tell his fellow convicts.
such safe ever existed.
: up the tipoff, officers
ck’s home only to
t there. They learn-
n routine. informa-
> possible suspect, that
a new pair of boots a
lier. Their interest pick-
‘oint, because they knew
f bootprints had been
bloodstains at the Clut-
purchasing a pair of
like those bought by
soon learned that the
on this type of boot
found in the Clutter

to Hickock’s home, po-
d by relatives that on
-e the massacre at Hol-
ck and his friend—sub-
itified as Smith—had left
1, supposedly headed for
visit Smith’s “sister” to
)0 that was waiting for
ost office there.
check showed that the
sost office is closed on
nd that Smith has no
community. The officers
d that the pair had been
alibi to cover possession
y they expected to get at
1ome.

vas sent out for the pair
the news being broken
and so it was that word
ure had been flashed from

KBI agents and Finney
ials who made the trip to
» year got off to a good
nuary 3rd, after a lengthy

-sion, they announced

iad just confessed to

sacre, implicating him-
utn. According to the offi-
confession had been ob-
. the unnerved Hickock in
blurted out through tears

CRIME DETECTIVE

and cries of anguish as he recalled
the events of the fateful Sunday morn-
ing.

The story they had heard from the
fellow convict in the penitentiary had
started them thinking about the Clut-
ter robbery, Hickock admitted. They
had gone to the farmhouse, prepared
to loot the safe and pick up ‘“thou-
sands of dollars in cash.”

They arrived at Herb Clutter’s farm
between midnight and one a.m. Find-
ing a door unlocked, they went in and
found Mr. Clutter asleep in a down-
stairs bedroom. Awakening him at
shotgun point, they forced him to go
upstairs and waken the rest of the
sleeping family. The Clutters were
locked in a second-floor bathroom,
while Hickock and Smith prowled
the house in search of the non-exist-
ent safe. As they moved about, they
cut the telephone lines. Unable to
find any safe or large amounts of
cash, they had gone back to the sec-
ond floor and released the Clutters
from the bathroom, herding them
down the hall to Mrs. Clutter’s bed-
room.

Despite the protests of the other
members of the family, Bonnie Clutter
was tied and gagged on her bed.
Hickock said Herb Clutter kept telling
them there was no secret cache of
money in the house, but he and Smith

didn’t believe the farmer. Nancy Clut-
ter was the next to be tied and gagged
as the little group moved on to ‘her
bedroom, according to Hickock, then
the father and son were prodded down
the steps to the basement.

Kenyon and his father were sepa-
rated, according to the confession
made public by the authorities; the
boy being trussed up in the recreation
room and Herb Clutter bound on the
floor of the workshop. Despite the
threats made by the pair of robbers,
Clutter was unable to direct them to
the money they expected to find in his
house.

Finally, the pair decided that they
weren’t going to get any fortune out
of the Clutters and that the family
had to die because, Hickock was
quoted, “We didn’t want any wit-
nesses.”

| Gok was the first to be shot,
then his father’s throat was cut
and the shotgun placed at his head.
With the blast still echoing through
the still house, they climbed the
stairs and shot Mrs. Bonnie Clutter
and Nancy Mae. Then they fled, tak-
ing with them only Kenyon’s radio, a
pair of binoculars and about fifty
dollars in cash that they had rounded

up.
When Hickock finished his confes-

sion, which had been recorded on
tape, it was played back for Smith
to hear. He refused to make any
comment on it or admit to his role
in the massacre.

TT pair was brought out of the
interrogation rooms to face the
battery of news photographers wait-
ing for them. The tenseness of the
moment and the experience of re-
living the awful slaughter, apparently
were too much for Hickock, who.
collapsed into the arms of the deputy
at his side. He soon was revived and
led off to a cell.

Back in Garden City, the news of
the confession was received with a
grim sense of triumph. Authorities
filed four charges of first-degree mur-
der against each of the two suspects.
And KBI Agent Sanford filled in re-
porters on more of the details of
Hickock’s story.

The tadio, which had been stolen
from the Clutter home, Sanford said,
reportedly was pawned in Mexico
City as the pair passed through there
on their flight from Kansas. An agent
was being dispatched to locate it. The
next day the newspapers announced
that the agent’s flight had been suc-
cessful; the radio had been found, as
well as a 1949 Chevrolet reportedly
owned by Hickock and used by the
pair the night of the Clutter slayings.

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as though the solution to the crime
never would be found. Not knowing
for certain whether or not the slaugh-
ter had been the work of a madman
or vicious robbers, townsfolk - still
were in the grip of fear. Doors were
kept locked, and women didn’t go
out after sundown unescorted. Many
of the most peaceful citizens began
keeping guns handy in their homes.

On New Year’s Day, 1960, word
flashed through the community that
the authorities were all hopped up
over some lead or other. But the few
details that had been pried out of the
sheriff’s office by newsmen were moet
unsatisfactory and didn’t seem too
promising.

According to reports, Kansas offi-
cers were en route to Las Vegas,
Nevada, to question two men picked
up there on December 30th in a car
that had been stolen in Oregon. Why

go so far just to check out a routine’

car theft report? the press and public
wondered. The two men were iden-
tified as Perry Edward Smith, thirty-
one, of Elko, Nevada, and Richard
Eugene Hickock, twenty-eight, of Ed-
gerton, Kansas, both wanted for Kan-
sas parole violation. Other than that
information, the authorities weren’t
saying any more until the officers who
had gone to Nevada had an oppor-
tunity to question the pair.

Busy newsmen were able to pry
out the past records on the two men
from police files.

Smith had served about three years
and four months in the Kansas State
Penitentiary. He had been sentenced
on March 13, 1956, by a Phillips
County judge on a charge of second-
degree burglary. The sentence had
been for five-to-ten years, and there
were three terms against him, but

his time was to run concurrently and .

he was paroled after serving forty
months. At the time, he had told the
parole board he planned to return to
Nevada to join his father.

Hickock had been an inmate at the
State Penitentiary at the same time
Smith was there. On March 15, 1958,
he had been sentenced to a five-year
term on a burglary charge from
Johnson County, Kansas. He was
paroled eleven months later, telling
the parole board he was going to
move to Alaska and work there. Since
his parole, Hickock reportedly had
been in trouble several times on bad
check charges. He reportedly had
joined up with Smith 'when the bur-
glar was paroled, and they were
thought to have been traveling to-
gether, paving their route with forged
checks.

But to the eager press and public,
the minor league robbers and bad
check artists didn’t add up to the
vicious killers of the Clutter family.
What made the police think they had
any connection with the crime, since
that obviously was the reason officers
were being sent to Las Vegas?

What the newsmen and_ public
didn’t know was that the pair had
been the prime suspects in the Clutter

massacre for over a month. The file
on them had been started with the
routine checking out of a tip re-
ceived by the KBI office directing the
manhunt in the Clutter case. It was
one of some 400 tips that came in, in
a six-week period, and was followed
up thoroughly as each lead was.
The tip had come from a former
employee of Herb Clutter, a man

-who had worked on the farm—and

who had been an inmate of the Kansas
State Penitentiary at the same time
Smith and Hickock were serving their
sentences. On hearing the accounts
of the Clutter massacre, the man had
recalled a conversation he had had
with the pair more than a year earlier
in the prison yard, While talking with
them, he remembered, he perhaps had
bragged a little about knowing such
an important man as Herb Clutter
and of knowing that the wealthy farm-
er kept “thousands of dollars” in a
safe in his farmhouse. He hadn’t real-
ly known about any such safe, the
man admitted, but it had made for a
good story to tell his fellow convicts.
Actually, no such safe ever existed.

In following up the tipoff, officers
had visited Hickock’s home only to
find that he wasn’t there. They learn-
ed, in taking down routine. informa-
tion about the possible suspect, that
he had bought a new pair of boots a
short time earlier. Their interest pick-
ed up at this point, because they knew
that a set of bootprints had been
found in the bloodstains at the Clut-
ter home. By purchasing a pair of
boots exactly like those bought by
Hickock, they soon learned that the
sole pattern on this type of boot
matched that found in the Clutter
blood.

Returning to Hickock’s home, po-
lice were told by relatives that on
the day before the massacre at Hol-
comb, Hickock and his friend—sub-
sequently identified as Smith—had left
home at noon; supposedly headed for
Fort Scott to visit Smith’s “sister” to
pick up $2500 that was waiting for
him at the post office there.

A speedy check showed that the
Fort Scott post office is closed on
Saturdays, and that Smith has no
sister in that community. The officers
now theorized that the pair had been
setting up an alibi to cover possession
of the money they expected to get at
the Clutter home.

N alert was sent out for the pair

without the news being broken
to the press, and so it was that word
of their capture had been flashed from
Las Vegas.

For the KBI agents and Finney
County officials who made the trip to
Nevada, the year got off to a good
start. On January 3rd, after a lengthy
questioning session, they announced
that Hickock had just confessed to
the Clutter massacre, implicating him-

- self and Smith. According to the offi-

cials, the confession had been ob-
tained from the unnerved Hickock in
little bits, blurted out through tears

CRIME DETECTIVE

and cries «
the events *

fellow

started ther
ter robbery
had gone t
to loot the
sands of dc

They arr)
between mi
ing a door
found Mr.
stairs bedr
shotgun po
upstairs an
sleeping fa
locked in
while Hick
the house |
ent safe. A
cut the te
find any s
cash, they
ond floor
from the
down the |!
room.

Despite
members 0
was tied
Hickock sa
them ther«
money in t

CRIME DETE

and active in the church’s
am.
‘rents’ religious activities
ollowed up by their chil-
‘ancy and Kenyon both at-
-school classes at the Hol-
ol. Nancy had recently
winner of the school’s
award for the first six
shool and, at the time of
rer photograph was hang-
ce of honor in the school
at Monday night after the
oth she and Kenyon were
‘n honored for their agri-
lievements~ at the annual
the Finney County 4-H
ribute to these two fine
the banquet was post-

iing in the Clutter family’s
to give any reason for
investigators turned their
.ck to the robbery theory.
y of the officials felt this
uld be ruled out, since
een no apparent ransack-
farmhouse. And, they ar-
killer probably wouldn’t
a burglar passing by
e decided to rob the
king Clutter home,
s set back from the main
10st a mile on a side road.
ponents of the robbery
: quick to counter this ar-
pointing out that Herb
me and address often ap-
ie state’s newspapers, since
-h a prominent figure in
affairs in Kansas, and a
er easily could assume that
would keep large sums of
ind his home.
orities were desperate for
as was clearly shown on
ven the newspapers, radio
tions carried a public ap-
he lawmen for assistance.
che crime were placed be-
blic, and any helpful sug-
re asked for.
used to gag the victims
ed as a two-inch, water-
> adhesive brand. The cord
nd them was a _ loosely-
yn rope, which had been
sombination of clove and
The authorities asked
torekeepers who recalled
sales of such items contact
Is.
1 concerning the cdse de-
t day, but it was withheld
public appeal. It resulted
to the Clutter farm by the
n daughters who survived
re. They had been asked
cials to make a thorough
ie house to see if they no-
ng out of place or missing.
itiee wanted to determine
y basis to the robbery

wane, aS the daughters
vly through the house go-
le contents of each room
looked as though the rob-
4 would be washed out en-
CRIME DETECTIVE

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tirely. However, one of the Clutter
girls paused in her brother’s bedroom.
Her gaze swept through the room
again, and then she said, ‘“‘Ken’s radio
is missing. It was a small portable
model that he got recently.” She de-
scribed the radio as a blue and gray
Zenith and recalled that she had seen
it in the boy’s room just the previous
week.

The officers decided to keep this
clue from the public and press since
the killer probably would dispose of
the radio if he heard that police were
looking for it. They hoped to use the
information to tie in any promising
suspect with the murders.

T° back up the authorities in their
search for the killer, the Hutchin-
son News that Tuesday offered a
$1,000 reward to anyone providing
information that would lead to the
solution of the crime.

The following day, the Clutters
were buried after funeral services in
their beloved church. In his eulogy,
Reverend Cowan spoke of the good
works of the family and said, “If
Christ were to return and pick twelve
disciples from this church, I am sure
Herb Clutter would be among. the
first.”

While the services were in progress,
the streets of Holcomb were deserted,

CRIME DETECTIVE

and all of the stores in the community
were closed.

For the next six weeks, the investi-
gation proceeded quietly as the offi-
cers followed up every lead, all of
them to end in defeat. The leads
varied from bloodstained abandoned
cars, found hundreds of miles away,
and checked out as having nothing
to do with the case, to bloodstains
found on a bridge railing not far
from the Clutter home. The stains, it
developed, had come from the re-
mains of a hog which’ had been
thrown into the river after being
butchered by a farmer.

A slight flurry of activity had alert-

-ed the area about a week after Thanks-

giving when Kansas officers took an
interest in a case which developed in
Walters, Oklahoma. There, a farmer
and his wife. both in their early fifties,
had been found dead in their farm
home. They both had been shot in the
chest with a rifle. Their phone had
been ripped from the wall. The simi-
larities to the Clutter murders were
enough to warrant Kansas officials
following up the investigation of the
slayings, but they failed to find any
connection between them.

Wm looked like another promis-
ing lead in the investigation came

on December 10th, when officers ar-
rested a man who had entered the
locked Clutter farmhouse. He was
carrying a .38-caliber revolver and in
his car parked near the house were
cached a 12-gauge shotgun, a_ .30-
caliber rifle and a hunting knife.

Disarmed and taken to the sheriff's
office, he was identified as a thirty-
six-vear-old Wichita, Kansas. resident.
He said he was just passing through
the district on his way to Sante Fe,
New Mexico, and had never lived in
Finney County, nor known any of the
Clutters. Asked what he had been
doing, going through the farmhouse,
he said he was “just curious” about
the place where the slaughter had oc-
curred. He had gotten into the house
by taking the lid off the well outside
and crawling through the pipe tunnel
into the basement.

The police held the man on an open
charge of burglary while they check-
ed out his story. They learned he had
been a former patient at the Topeka
State Hospital, released in 1957 with
a recommendation that he be given
further mental treatment. It was de-
termined, however, that he had been
in Wichita on the night of the Clutter
massacre.

s the six weeks passed after the
Clutter murders, it began to look

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On January 4th, the now silent
Hickock and Smith were handcuffed
and put into separate cars for the
1000-mile trip back to Garden City.
Traveling with them were Sheriff
Robertson and four KBI agents. The
next day, as the motorcade wended
its way toward Kansas, it stopped long
enough for Agent Al Dewey to phone
ahead to Sanford. He reported that
Smith had broken his silence and ad-
mitted taking part in the massacre.
Smith, according to Dewey, would
sign his statement when the party
reached Garden City.

With Smith’s statement and the de-
tailed confession of Hickock, the state
had no trouble convicting the pair of
first-degree murder. They were sen-
tenced to be hanged for the wholesale
slaughter of the popular, civic-minded
Clutters—a crime with reverberations
still felt among the simple farm fami-
lies in Kansas, who now lock their
doors and windows at night and look
with suspicion on strangers to whom
they once would have extended a
welcoming hand of friendship.

HEAVEN HELP
A WOMAN

(Continued from page 41)

In 1962 there was a staggering total
of 2,048,370 crimes in the United
States, according to the Federal Bu-
reau of Investigation. Included in this
awesome total were 8,400 murders,
16,310 forcible rapes, almost 900,000
burglaries and more than 350,000
auto thefts.

Two thirds of all auto thefts oc-
curred at night; 19 out of 20 bur-
glaries were accomplished during the
night hours.

Police have long sought an answer
to the burgeoning crime rate, but the

. fact is, they are losing the battle. One

solution is to add policemen. And,
in some cases, this might help. But
policemen can’t stop what they can’t
see.

Also, hiring policemen is not al-
ways an easy task. It’s expensive—and
taxpayers across the country are be-
coming increasingly reluctant to shell
out more tax dollars for increased city
services, even if they will be bene-
ficial over the long run.

An increasing number of cities are
finding that the most effective answer
to the perplexing problem is to light
up areas that tend to breed crime,
such as streets, playgrounds, parks and
alleys.

These areas, if not properly lit, en-
courage the congregation of criminals
and potential criminals, in search of
innocent victims to attack under cover
of darkness, without being seen.

“The more light, the less crime,” is
an old saying. '

CRIME DETECTIVE

In citie
grams hee
and High
ef ¢
drop
ing pues.
is one of
rents agai

Just a
helping t
they helpi
high-incid
onstrated
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eliminate
perts cont
on the né
half of th:
ed in thi
be elimin
quate ligt
stantial r
injuries.

INCE
in hel
traffic fat:
mum, it’s
eral Fede
year laun
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Workir
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Bureau, t
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ter lightin
and subu)
With c
are mak
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lighting «
nigt
gett
B
in puttin
jority of
the Unite

T° help
lightir
as a dete
the Street
ing Bure
points:
(1) A
30 feet al
no lower
(2) A
nate dark
(3) D
downwar
(4) D
just the
without s,
(5) Is

* sidewalks,

without |)
der each’
If all «
a “yes,”
Safety L
are safe.
chances
or out ¢
crime an

CRIME DET!

Ratner. He and Wight had worked
together on many cases. Both were
ex-servicemen and _ close personal
friends.

“Lou,” Wight said over the phone,
“the Smoll boy has been traced to
Marion. A man and a woman from
Lincolnville just came down and told
me they drove him there.”

“Find out every move he made in
Marion,” Richter replied. “T'll call
Bulla and Hughes. They're still in
Herington. I'll have them come down
to help you. I’ll try to get down there
myself this afternoon, but call me if
anything important develops.”

“I'll get all the information I can.”

Wier: didn't have much trouble
learning about Smoll at the
Brook's service station. Ruby Brook,
who operated the combination store and
filling-station, told him: “I remember
that boy. He came in the store and
bought a soda. Then I saw him stand-
ing out at the corner, waiting.”

“Did you see him get into an auto-
mobile?”

“No, there weren't many cars that
day. He stood out there about an hour
and then I saw him walking away. I
suppose he figured he would have a bet-
ter chance on the highway south of
town.”

Wight went to the Duckworth filling-
station south of Marion, where the
highway leaves the town to join High-
way 50.

“Sure. We saw that boy around
here,” Duckworth said. ‘He was stand-*
ing on the bridge, waiting for a car.
He came in, asked us if many cars were
passing. I recognize his picture now.”

Bulla and Hughes arrived in Marion
a few minutes later. They hadn't been
able to find the person who drove
Smoll from Herington to Lincolnville,
but when the boy’s trail was picked
up at Marion, they forgot about Her-
ington.

“Tye traced Bruce Smoll to the
bridge across the cottonwood south of
town,” Wight informed them. “No-
body seems to have seen him after
that. He may have caught a car.”

But two days later the officers were
still looking for somebody who picked
the boy up at that bridge. The news
that he had been traced to Marion
caused the case to hit the front pages
again. What had become of the youth?
Had he been slain? Or was this just
a runaway case?

Sheriff George Gephart joined in
the search. Lou Richter came down
from Topeka. A. E. Smoll, the boy’s
father, who took an active and intelli-
gent part in the investigation, came up
from Wichita and made his headquar-
ters at the Elgin Hotel in Marion.
Farmers living along the ten miles
south from Marion to Highway 50 were
shown the picture of Bruce Smoll.
None recalled seeing the boy.

IT THE end of a week, the trail of

Bruce Smoll had ended mysterious-
ly on that bridge across the cottonwood
south of Marion. Searching parties
beat the underbrush along the river
bank. In Wichita, the Civilian Air
Corps cooperated and planes fiew low
over the country within an area of
many miles as the pilots looked for. a
human body on the ground.

Richter had returned to Topeka
where he found the Smoll case had be-
come the most important one in his of-
fice. News of the disappearance had
spread all over the West and tips were
coming in from farmers who said the
missing youth had been seen in 20 parts
of the West at the same time.

From Syracuse, Kansas, came an im-
portant development. Sheriff Frank
Ray reported that the boy had been in
that town several days before. The
Sheriff's story was weakened consid-
erable by the fact that Jim Franklin
in Carthage, Missouri, phoned Richter
that he had positively seen the miss-
ing boy that same day in Carthage.

But no tip was overlooked. Richter
sent men to each town where persons
were certain they had seen Bruce
Smoll, and at the same time, Richter
was conducting a search of the rec-

ords of every defense plant and war
camp in that part of the West.

September and October passed.

On November 10, Richter was back
in Marion, the last place Bruce Smoll
had been seen. His work of checking
defense plants and war camps had been
finished. All the tips phoned into his
office had been investigated. No trace
of the Smoll youth had been found.

Where was he? Alive? Dead?

The father came to Marion and he,
Richter, Ollie Wight and Sheriff Gep-
hart held a conference.

“We'll have to pick up the case from
this point,” Richter explained. “It was.
the morning of September eighteenth
that Bruce was last seen on that bridge.
If he caught a ride from there, we have
no record of it. There is a possibility
that some out-of-state car picked him

“That couldn’t have happened, Ollie
Wight put in. ‘We checked the filling-
stations, and no out-of-state car came
through that day that they recall, You
see, because of gas rationing such cars
are rare. A few Texas cars come
through, but if they buy gas, they have
to write the name of state and license
number on coupons. We checked all
coupons and no out-of-town automo-
biles bought gas that day. In fact
there were no coupons from counties
other than Chase and Marion.”

“Out-of-state cars could have gone
through without buying gas,” Mr.
Smoll suggested hopefully.

sr THAT is possible but not probable,”
Wight answered. With so many of
the small gas stations closed down, any
car coming from the East on the cut-
off from Emporia would have to buy
gas in Marion, And I found nobody
who recalled seeing such a car coming
through.”

“The car would only have taken
Bruce to Newton,” Richter said. “We
would have found somebody there who
saw him as he would have gone to the
filling-station. No, I am convinced
now that Bruce came to the end of his
trail at that bridge or some miles
south—”

“Then—you think he’s—dead,” Mr.
Smoll interrupted. For a moment his
voice broke. .

“I don’t know what to think. But
I’m certain he didn’t get much further
on his trip than from here.”

“We had another case of a disap-
pearance on September eighteenth, the
day Bruce was in Marion,” Sheriff
Gephart said. “A woman disappeared
from Florence on that night. We
haven't been able to trace her.”

Richter took a quick interest in the
Sheriff’s remark. ‘Give me her name
and the facts about her disappearance.
Florence is only ten miles from here.
There could be a connection between
these two cases.”

“The girl was the daughter of Wil-
liam Fouschee, who lives near Cedar
Point. Seems like she drove to Flor-
ence with her parents and when they
got ready to go home, they couldn’t
find her. No trace of her has been
found since then. But there are sev-
eral angles to that case that might
explain it. This girl, Pauline Fouschee,
had married some chap over at Cot-
tonwood Falls and there had been
trouble, It is possible that he was be-
hind her disappearance. He broke
jail in Cottonwood Falls.”

“What was his name?”

11\A/ELL, he went by the handle of
Melvin Greenman. He worked
as a mechanic in Cedar Point and that’s
where he met Pauline. This Greenman
was new to the town and people over
there have the idea that wasn’t his
name. He was a mean type and a heavy
drinker and abused his wife. Her
father intervened and there was & fight.
Greenman was arrested on the charge
of assault and put in the Cottonwood
Falls jail. He broke out of there sev~-
eral days before his wife disappeared
from Florence. I doubt if there could
have been any connection between that
and the disappearance of Bruce Smoll.”

“Perhaps not,” Richter remarked
thoughtfully, “but two persons disap-
pearing from a radius of ten miles the

same day is something -we can’t over-
look. The husband may not have been
involved. But if he had taken her
away, she would have written her par-
ents. I know the Fouschee family.
They are fine people.”

Sak Barer) believe their daughter was
taken away by her husband,” the
Sheriff added. “He and Pauline
Fouschee were married in August. The
fight with the father happened August
twenty-second. Sheriff Gilmore over
in Chase County ordered him to an-
swer the charge of assault. Greenman
didn’t gp to Cottonwood Falls. He
forced his wife to flee with him. The
couple was picked up in Syracuse,

Kansas, returned to Chase County.

where he was placed in jail. Later he
broke out.”

“Syracuse?” Richter exclaimed.
“hat is where Sheriff Frank Ray said
Bruce had been seen.”

A phone call was put through to the
Sheriff in Syracuse.”

“I didn’t see the boy,” the Sheriff
explained to Richter on the phone.
“The story got mixed up. But a pair of
slacks with Smoll’s name on them were
sent to a laundry here. The laundry-
man remembered the name.”

“Do you recall when a man named
Greenman was picked up out there
sometime ago to be returned to Chase

“Yes,”

“was he seen in Syracuse about the
time the slacks were sent to the laun-
ary?”

“Tf he was I never heard about it.”

“Check the tourist camp and find out
if Greenman and his wife stayed there
over night about the time the slacks
went to the laundry. Phone your re-
port in to my office in Topeka.”

When Richter hung up, he’ turned
to the other officers and ‘told them
what he learned. There was silence
for a moment. The men were thinking
just about the same thing. .How did
the youth’s slacks happen to be sent to
a laundry in Syracuse? Did that mean
that the boy was dead—that his killer
was wearing his clothing? And how did
Greenman fit into the picture?

RICHTER was the first to break the
stillness.

“where was this Greenman from?”
he asked Sheriff Gephart.

“Texas. He talked a lot about Wich-
ita Falls.”

“Has Sheriff Gilmore any more in-
formation about him?”

“J think he knows a lot about him.”

Richter got up, said to Ollie Wight:
“Ollie, we’re going over to Cottonwood
Falls and talk to Sheriff Gilmore. I
want to learn more about this Green-
man. I want to know how it happens
that slacks with ‘Smoll’ on them were
sent to the laundry there.”

Before leaving Marion, Richter call-
ed his office and asked Jack Hughes
and Roy Bulla, the two detectives who
traced Bruce Smoll to Herington, to
report to him.

When Richter, Wight, A. E. Smoll
and Sheriff Gephart arrived in Cotton-
wood Falls, they found Sheriff Gilmore
in his office.

“That man Greenman is & tough
character,” Sheriff Gilmore told them.
“He broke jail here because he had
help. I can’t prove it, but I know there
was somebody on the outside who sup-
plied him with a rope.”

“Got a picture of him?” Richter in-

quired.

“No, but I took his fingerprints. I
got a feeling that his name isn’t Green-
man and jail is nothing new to him.”

“Send those prints at once to Wichi-
ta Falls, Texas, by airmail. If he came
from down that way, they may have a
record of him.” :

“1 sent them to Lansing, our State
Prison, but they had no record. Vl
shoot them down to Wichita Falls
right away.”

“who do you believe helped him es-
cape?” Richter asked.

“Bill McCracken and his wife live
on a ranch south of Cedar Point,”
Sheriff Gilmore answered. “Green-
man was very friendly with them and
spent a lot of time at, their place. Mc-

Cracken and his wife were. in Cotton-
wood Falls and came to see Greenman

that they helped him, but it looks
mighty strange.”

“Then let’s go down and visit the
McCracken Ranch!”

When the officers drove up to the
ranch, Mrs. McCracken, & woman about
35, came to the door. She was nervous

and obviously upset by the visit of the.

officers. Richter and Sheriff Gilmore
talked with her. -

“Mrs, McCracken,” Richter. said.
“we want to know a few things about
Melvin Greenman. I understand he
was a close friend of you and your
husband and spent considerable time
here.” i

MBS. McCRACKEN backed into the
house, rubbing her hands nervous-
ly. She said nothing. Richter and the
Sheriff followed her inside. A man
came out of a side room, stared in
amazement at the officers and his
frightened wife.

“Who are these men. Thelma?”

“you should. remember me, Mc-
Cracken,” Sheriff Gilmore retorted.
“I let you in the jail when you visited
Greenman just before his break.”

“So what?”

“We've come to arrest you and your
wife for assisting in a jail break,” Rich-
ter cut in. «

Sheriff Gilmore looked at Richter, a
puzzled expression on his face. Richter
continued, “I am taking you two to
Emporia for questioning.”

Richter and the Sheriff, followed in
another car by Wight, Sheriff Gephart
and Smoll arrived in Emporia, early
that evening with Mr. and Mrs. Mc-
Cracken. The Sheriff had had no
chance to talk to Richter on the way
to Emporia. But when they got in the
Bradway Hotel. and,in @ room, the
Sheriff said to Richter: “T haven't any
evidence. to hold them for assisting
that jail-break.”

“lm not interested in that jail-
break,” Richter continued. “I want to
question that woman alone. She’s
scared to death about something. You
take McCracken to another room and
ask him any questions you wish. Til
question Mrs, McCracken.”

Ollie Wight brought Mrs. McCracken
into the room where Richter had talked
to the Sheriff. Then ‘Wight left.

“Now Mrs. McCracken,” Richter said.
“1 want you ‘* tell me the truth. Don’t
be afraid of anzbody. If you ansi ~
my questions, all charges of assist
in the.jail break will be dropped.”

“]_I—don’t know anything—I
you I—don’t.”

“When was the last time you saw
Greenman?” : A

“JI—don’t—know.”

“T° YOU want us to try you and
your husband for help in that
oe aga You could go to prison for
that.”

Thelma McCracken rubbed her hands
together violently. “T—I—didn’t—
help Melvin escape. He wanted me
to, but I was afraid of him.”

“And you still are?”

“you don’t know him. He is terri-
ble. The night he came to our place,
I was alone. Fred, my husband, was
out in the fields. I ran to get him—”

“what night was that?”

“J__] think it was September eight-
eenth. About eight o’clock—maybe
later.”

“what happened then?” -

Mrs. McCracken started to say some-
thing, then stopped suddenly. ‘“Noth-
ing. Nothing, really.”

Richter shrugged his shoulders. “All
right, Mrs. McCracken. There’s noth-
ing I can do if you don’t want to help
us.” He walked away from the wom-
an, only. to turn around quickly. His
voice became hard. “You're in this"
thing deep. Deeper than you know.
If you don’t want to help yourself—”

Mrs. McCracken buried her face in
her hands. .

“All right, I’ll tell you everything. It
has been terrible, knowing this and not
being able to talk. Melvin drove up
to the house about eight. He came
inside, carrying a suitcase I knew wasn’t
his. He had been drinking and he was

Hoe Een

CES he

abrupt and business-like manner.

said to Chief of Police J. B. Jay-
‘ox: “I'm worried about my son Bruce.
A week ano he left Manhattan. He's a
tudent at the State Agriculture College
here, He hasn‘t arrived home, and I
eel that something has happened to
iim.”

Chief Jaycox of the Wichita, Kansas,
»olice Department motioned his visi-
or to take a chair, Missing persons
isually are only a routine matter for
iny police department, but the promi-
ence of this visitor, A. E. Smoll, well-
snown Wichita insurance man, caused
Jaycox to give more than routine at-
ention to his request,

“How was your son planning to come
iome?”™

“Well, he did write that he might
iitch-hike home. Isent him money for
he train or bus, but these youngsters
—Bruce is only eighteen—they seem.to
ret a kick out of thumbing their way.”

“Then you're not sure how he plan-
ied to travel?”

“I think it is safe to say that he
iitch-hiked.”

“No trouble in the family? We have
o ask this question because it is im-
vortant.”

“Absolutely none, and I appreciate

T= well-dressed man, with an

+ meets.

that you must get a frank answer.
Bruce had finished his Summer course
at Manhattan and was coming home
before being inducted into the Army.”

“Are you sure he left Manhattan?”

“I have called a number of his ‘col-
lege friends to see if he was with them.
Two of them said that he did leave and
that he was not with any of his friends:”

“What date was that?”

“September seventeenth. He should
have been home two days later. With
luck he could have made it in one day.
Giving him two days, he should have
been here Monday. Not only didn’t he
return, but no word from him.”

that it was September 21, 1943, as he
sat talking to the worried father. Miss-
ing persons was an old story to him.
Usually they ran in certain patterns.
A missing daughter who elopes. A hus-
band, who turns up in time with a
bad head and gray taste in his mouth.
and memories not too pleasant. There
are many other patterns. All usually.
turn out to be not serious.

Yet there was always the chance
that a missing person means foul play.
Smoll’s story didn’t fit into any of the
usual patterns. Neither did it indi-
cate that anything had happened to

Murdered—Kidnaped—What Happened
to This Shy, Studious College Boy Who «
Vanished Completely While Thumbing a

Ride to His Home in Wichita to Enlist?

‘

By A. B. Wynne
Special Investigator for :
OFFICIAL DETECTIVE STORIES

OTL

sete

miTy geht Diappen Ae

Caen

SesNNG

ust
3
a
4
7
:

the youth. But who could say what
the result of this case would be?

“Frankly, I wouldn't be too worried,
Mr. Smoll,” Jaycox assured the father.
“Bruce is plenty able to take care of
himself. We are in trying and excit-
ing times now. He may have been
Swept away with the influence of the
war-and enlisted. Many-things could
bave caused him tp delay his trip. We
will send out posters for him and con-
tact other police departments.”

“My son didn’t join the Army and
he didn’t visit anybody. Something
happened to him. I can just feel it.
I'm not the hysterical type—but I
know my son.”

“We'll do everything we can.”

There wasn't a great deal the Wichita
Police Department could do. Their
jurisdiction didn’t reach beyond the
city limits. A routine report was made
out for the missing Bruce Smoll, sent

The father of Bruce Smoll, second from right, looks over evidenc
Roscoe King, left, Assistant Attorney General Braden Johnson,
gator Lou Richter and Attorney Payne Ratner, former governor of Kansas

‘the newspapers.

to Topeka and Kansas City. A num-
ber of smaller cities received the re-
port where it was filed away for future
reference.

Three days passed and nothing de-
veloped.. The case didn’t even make
The father kept his
silence all that time, waiting anxiously
for some word from the police or son.

O* THE fourth day he went to the
law -office of Payne Ratner, who
had served as Governor of the State

.two years before. Ratner is young, ag-

gressive, with a keen mind. As a lawyer,
few could surpass him.

“Payne,” Smoll said, “you have
handled all,my other business. Now I
have a case that is far more impor-
tant than anything else. My son Bruce
has disappeared. I talked to Chief
Jaycox and he did everything he could.
I know something has happened to

e with Attorney
Criminal Investi-

aR HRM ge ov

William Hawk, a highway

Bruce Smoll:

Because of his

workman, points out the im-
print left on the ground that
marked the end of the trail

shyness he never made many
friends—but hundreds of peo-
ple joined to search for him

Bruce. He left Manhattan for home
on the seventeenth and he hasn't ar-
rived yet.”

“Why are you certain something is
wrong?” .

“I know my son like a book. He was
coming home for his Army induction
and he wanted to go. I sent him money
to come home on the bus, but he liked
the excitement of hitch-hiking. Then
perhaps it may be just intuition. 1}
know something has happened to him
and I want something done.”

“I'm a lawyer and not a police of

ficer. But I think I can contact the
man that can take care of your case
He is one of the best police officers
in the West and he has the orvaniza-
tion to handle the search. It is Lou
Richter, head of the State Bureau of
Criminal Investigation. The Bureau
was started under my first term as
Governor and I was instrumental! in
seeing that he got the appointment
Mil call him on the phone now.’
Ratner put in a call for Richter im
Topeka. He got a speedy connection
(Continued on Page 45)

- yaaa

neaa if rirst

) OFFICIAL DETECTIVE RIES

work: hard here and, believe it or not,
et: de with honors. As a result
they are sending me on to a school in
Chicago to study radar. It will not only
give me a higher rank in the Marines,
but will give me a profession that
should earn a good living for us when
the war is over. Keep loving me my
darling and have faith. Our new world
will come soon, I promise you.”
Jack telephoned on the first of Sep-
. tember.
“I just got in, dear,” he said. “I’ve
got to check in with the office here this

afternoon because I’m leaving in the ~~

morning. Meet me at eight o’clock
some place. I want to see you every
hour I am free.”

“I—I can't,” I replied. “I have no
one to watch the children. Mother isn’t

“But, I’ve got to see you. It may be
months before I’m finished with the
school in Chicago. And I may not.even
come back this way before they
me over.” ss ty,

“I know. I must see you, my darling.
Come out to the house, please. Earl’
is still working-nights.” ‘

I put the children to bed early. I
did not like to have Jack come to the
house. It was—well, until I had my
divorce there was just something about
it I did not like.

HE LOOKED fine in his uniform. My
heart swelled with love and pride as
I saw him.
He stepped inside and took me into
his arms.

and as we talked the minutes and hours
flew by.

morning and for how long he would be
gone.

“It won’t be long, darling,” he com-
fored me. “And when I do come
back—”

Yes, when he came back, there would
be a whole new world waiting for us.
A vorld that would turn to a beautiful
reality through our love.

_ + couldn’t bring myself to even men-
ticn the word divorce at this moment.
We would pretend that there had been
no “fe for either of us beyond that day
Win we would be together in the fu-
ture.

“I must go now, darling,” Jack said,
finally. It was well after midnight.

“Good-by, my darling.”.

Just as we reached the kitchen, Earl
came through the door. He held a long
piece of metal in his hand as a club.
I recognized it to be an iron he had in
his_car which he used while changing

He advanced toward Jack.

It is impossible to record what hap-
pened next.

My memory is like flashes of a mov-
ing picture with segments of it gone.
There is one picture of Earl storming
into the house brandishing the length
of iron in his hand. Jack backed away
from him to the living-room. I tried
to push my way in front of Earl.

“Earl!” I cried. “Listen to me, Earl!”

Earl was shouting. I was unable to
hear what he said as I tried to scream
over his voice to make him hear me.

Another picture is Earl pulling open
the drawer of his desk just inside the
living-room.

“No!” I screamed. “No! Earl don’t!”

I knew that Earl kept a revolver in

He spoke briefly over the phone.
Hanging up the receiver, he turned to
Smoll. “Richter wants you to meet
him at the Gillette Hotel in Manhat-
tan. He’ll be there tomorrow.”

The next day Smoll met Richter in
the hotel lobby. He told the investi-
gator the little that he knew about his
son’s disappearance.

Richter introduced .the father to
one of his men, Roy Bulla. Then he
sent Bulla to the rooming-house where
the youth had been staying to find
out what time the boy left for home
and what he’d been wearing.

WE5#EN Bulla had gone, Richter ques-
tioned Smoll carefully. He drew
out the youth’s characteristics. Bruce
Smoll was not wild and was attached
closely to home and family. He was
a little shy and, while friendly to every-
body, he didn’t make close personal
friends easily.

“He was going to be inducted into the
Army,” Smoll explained, “but he was
eager to join up. Always liked to fool
around with gadgets. He wrote me he
was bringing home an oscilator for a
radio. Also a chemistry book. He’d
made a good grade and wanted to show
it to his mother.”

A page boy called Richter to the
phone. Bulla was on the other end of
the line.

“The boy left here early on the morn-
ing of the seventeenth with his grips
packed,” Bulla reported. “He told his
friends he was going to hitch-hike to
Wichita. He-was wearing slacks. He
is of medium height and weight, with

VV horror, I watched him lift himself
on one arm and turn his head toward
me. As I watched, I saw his lips form
the word “Jennie.” But there was no
sound. Then— -

I knew he was dead.

“Kill me, too!” I screamed at Earl,
and flung myself beside Jack’s body.

I was only half-conscious of Earl

‘going to the telephone as he ¢alled

the police. : i

The’ officers seemed to arrive at
once. . e E

There were questions that. I could
not understand or hear. All I could
think of.or see was Jack on the floor
dead. :

They led me to a police car and took
me to Headquarters. There were more
questions. I tried to answer them, but
nothing made sense. Nothing matter-
ed except that Jack was dead. F

I recall that after hours, one of the
detectives asked me how long I had
been married. It wasn’t until then that

ee The Disappearance of Bruce Smoll

rather noticeable eye glasses. Question-
ed those who knew him. All report
a fine boy, not mixed up in any trouble
and there is no girl in it.”

When Richter joined Smoll after the
call, he said: “This is the type of a
case where we can’t promise speedy
action. I’m keeping Bulla here and
will send another man, Jack Hughes,
down to help him. Our first move is to
trace your son as far as we can. But
we need newspaper publicity to help
us. You can have Ratner give the
story to the Wichita papers and I'll
see that all the local papers in this part
of the state pick it.up. We have to find
the parties who gave your son rides.”

Jack Hughes arrived in Manhattan
late that evening to assist Bulla. Their
job of finding the person who gave
Smoll a ride out of Manhattan was
slow and painstaking. They traced the
youth from his rooming-house to a
filling-station on the highway leading
south. The owner of the station re-
mrembered seeing the boy, wearing
slacks and carrying a suitcase, wait-
ing at the highway, but he didn’t notice
who picked him up.

: WITHIN two days, however, the two

detectives got excellent assistance
from the newspapers of the state.

Yet, with all this help, Bulla and
Hughes were a week in Manhattan be-
fore a truck driver reported to them.

“I know that Smoll boy. He rode to
Herington with me on my truck on the
seventeenth. I’ve been away and just
got back and I came here as soon as I
heard about him.”

itted. In spite of everything, I
| not find it in my heart to blame

If I have hurt my children irrepar-
ably, then no amount of repentance
will cleanse the wound or heal the in-
jury. I‘only hope the tragedy will not
mar their lives as it has marred mine.

. Jack is dead now, but I still have the
memory of something that was beau-
tiful and clean and decent. I can never
forget him,-no matter how hard I tried.
He was to have been my husband. _

Now, I am living with my two chil-
dren away from the house in which
Jack died. I do not know what the fu-
ture holds. My only thought is that I

must go on and see that my children

are given a normal life. A

I hope that those who have so harsh-
ly condemned me for what has happen-
ed may understand a little, and be kind
and tolerant—not to me but to my
youngsters. For they are innocent of
any blame. And they must not suffer
for their mother.

(Continued from Page 7)

“Where did you let him off in Her-
ington?” Hughes asked.

“Near the railroad station. He was
a good kid and told me he wanted to
get a ride to Wichita that night. Said
he was going in the Army and seemed
excited about it.”

T= two detectives drove to Hering-
ton and started questioning persons
in that city. They didn’t learn. any-
thing. But down at Lincolnville, Merle
Smith-and his wife were reading their
weekly issue of the Marion Review.
They saw the picture of Bruce Smoll.
“That’s the boy we picked up out-
side of Lincolnville and took to
Marion,” Mrs. Smith exclaimed. “Re-
member he said he was going to
Wichita. That’s his picture. I’m sure.”
Smith looked at the picture. “It cer-
tainly is. We better get in touch with
the police in Marion.”
The couple drove to Marion and con-
tacted Ollie Wight, the local marshall.
“We let the boy out near’ the
Brook’s service station,” they told him.
“He thought that would be the best
Place to catch a ride for Wichita.” .
The Brook’s service station was at
the east side of Marion, on Highway
TT. A jog in the Highway made all cars
slow up and it had long been the fa-
vorite place for hitch-hikers to wait.
Ollie Wight called Lou Richter in
Topeka. Marion County was Richter’s
former home. He had served two terms
as sheriff and was a resident of Marion
when appointed to organize and head
the New State Bureau of Criminal In-
vestigation in 1940 by Governor Payne

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56

Mexico, A snow storm delayed them in
that state and when they arrived at their
destination, they found they were too
late to be in on the final action. .

When Agent Nye arrived in the resort
city he teamed up with B. J. Handlon,
chief of the detective bureau. Then on
New Year’s Day his trained eyes spot-
ted Hickock and Smith parking a dusty
car on a downtown Las Vegan street.
He and. Handlon pounced on the two
felons and threw them in jail on charges
of parole violation and bad check pass-
ing. be

.The two prisoners apparently be-
lieved those two charges constituted
their only trouble. They were rudely
awakened Saturday evening when they
were taken from their cell into the in-
terrogation room and were confronted
by Sheriff Robinson and KBI agents
Dewey, Nye, Church and Duntz. These
five gentlemen informed them that war-
rants for arrest on four counts of first
degree murder had been issued.

Then the questioning began—and it

‘

lasted for five hours. Hickock termi-

nated the session by confessing that he
and Smith had wiped out the Clutter
family. Smith, however, was a tougher
nut and met all queries with closed lips,
refusing to endorse or deny Hickock’s
admissions: | ;
Hickock said that O’Brien’s story of
Clutter’s safe had aroused the spirit of
adventure and the lust for monetary
gain in his and Smith’s souls and they ©
laid plans to: grab the wheat rancher’s
mythical $100,000.: . we
‘Driving west from his parents’ farm
home outside Kansas City, they had
reached the Clutter place under cover
of darkness. A side door to the house

- was open and they merely walked in. At

the point of a shotgun, they awakened
Herb Clutter and shoved him upstairs,
where they aroused Mrs. Clutter and
Nancy. Kenyon then emerged from his
bedroom and they added him ‘to the
captives. They herded the four into a

bathroom, bound and gagged them with
cord prepared for such a purpose, and
began a search of the house for Clut-
ter’s legendary safe. Finding neither the
safe, nor a bundle’ of loose cash, they
returned to the bathroom and carried
Nancy into her ‘bedroom, and Mrs.
Clutter into hers.

Clutter and his son they drove before
them down into the basement. On the
way they paused to rip out two tele-
phones they had noticed while casing
the house: They missed the third in the
hall closet, however.

Once in the basement they attempted
to' frighten Clutter into telling the
whereabouts of. the safe and the
$100,000. Clutter swore he had no safe
or any free cash.

The killers then shot Kenyon in the
face. After replacing his gag, they did
the same to the elder Clutter. Then they
went upstairs and fiendishly finished off
the mother and daughter. —

They had to, Hickock added, to pre-

’ vent identification.

Then grabbing up the portable radio

‘ on a whim they drove south and since

the murder had wandered aimlessly,
eventually ending up in Mexico City,
where they pawned'the radio. Then they
headed for Las Vegas—and capture, -
The next day Hickock formally re-
peated his confession to a police stenog-
rapher, signed it and waived extradition
to Kansas. Smith continued ‘adamant,
refusing to either confirm or deny Hick-
ock’s statement on the mass murders.
On Monday morning, January 4th,
two car loads of KBI men and two
chained killers started eastward. Await-
ing their arrival in Garden City were
formal charges for Hickock and Smith
on four counts of first degree murder.
As the small convoy drove through
the Rockies, word was relayed to them
that a shotgun and knife, presumably
the death weapons, had been discovered

- on the farm of Hickock’s parents 1

Edgerton, Kansas.

]

STRANGLED BRUNETTES

(Continued from page 23)

looked at the washbasin at which Brooks
was pointing. The washbasin was half
full of water and a single bedraggled
rose was floating in it.

Beckner frowned. “What gives?” he
asked in puzzlement. “Murder and roses
—some combination. Did the guy give
her the flower, then. beat the bejeezus
out of her?”

For the moment the officers could
only conjecture about the significance of
the rose. They went back to the bed-
room just in time to greet the deputy
coroner who bustled in: with his black
bag. While the newcomer directed his
attention to the corpse of the battered
brunette, the detectives talked with the
manager.

He showed them the registration card

signed by the brunette on Sunday after-
noon, but he could give them little
added information.

“Mrs. Reed would drop in occasion-
ally and stay for a day or two,” he told
the detectives. “She never brought lug-
gage and always paid in advance.”

“Did she ever check in with a man?”
Brooks demanded.

“Never,” the manager said. “She al-
ways came alone, and she never caused
any trouble whatsoever. She did like a
drink and spent a lot of time in the
cocktail lounge.”

On the bureau was the woman’s pock-
etbook. Beckner sifted through its con-
tents, It contained no money but held
an assortment -of identification cards.
These revealed that the dead woman’s
real name was Mrs. Ferne Celia Reed
Wessel, that she was 43, and that she

lived at 825 South Kingsley Drive, an

address different than the one she had
listed on the registration card. The pa-

POLICE FILES

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POLICE FILE

age . Megson gi ‘pn, . feign os ' ; i oy co
HICKOCK aND sMITH, Kansas, 1965.

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TRUMAN -
GAPOIE.

IN COLD BLOO!

‘We both wanted the film to duplicate reality, inits
real locale: The house of the murdered Clutter family; the same

“a

Kansas variety store where Perty and Dick bought the rope...’

ne hot afternoon last March, in a court-
O house on the high wheat plains of west-

ern Kansas, Richard Brooks turned to
me, between takes of the movie he was directing,
and rather reproachfully asked: ‘‘What are you
laughing at?”

“Oh, nothing,” I said, but the truth was that
I’d remembered a long-ago question by Perry
Smith, one of the two murderers whose trial was
being reenacted here. He had been captured a
few days before, and his question was: ‘‘Were
there any representatives of the cinema there?”
I wondered what he would have thought of the

present scene: The huge arc lights arranged in-
side the courtroom where he and Richard Hickock
had been tried, the jury box filled with the very
same men who had convicted them, the purring
generators, whirring cameras, the whispering
technicians dancing in and out among thick coils
of electric cable.

The first conversation I ever had with Perry
Smith was at the beginning of January, 1960.
It was a cold day, glittery as an icicle; Smith and
I talked together at the sheriff’s office in a room
where prairie winds pressed against the windows,
sucked the glass, rattled it. I was fairly rattled

Truman Capote (left) with writer-director Richard Brooks, his choice as

’

“intermediary between book and screen.’

myself, for I had been working for more than a
month on a book about the murder of Herbert
Clutter and his family, J Cold Blood, and unless
I could establish close contact with this half-Irish,
half-Indian young man, I would have to abandon
the project. His court-appointed attorney had
persuaded him to speak to me; but it was soon
obvious that Smith regretted having granted the
interview. He was remote, suspicious, sullenly
sleepy-eyed: It took years, hundreds of letters
and conversations, before I slipped all the way
past this facade. At the moment, nothing I said
interested him. He rather arrogantly began to

question my credentials. What kind of writer
was I, and what had I written? Well, he said,
after I’d provided a dossier, he’d never heard of
me or any of my books; but--had I written any
movies? Yes, one: Beat the Devil. Now the sleepy
eyes somewhat wakened: ‘Uh huh. I remember.
Only saw it because Humphrey Bogart was in it.
Did you, uh, uh, know Bogart? Personally?”
When I answered that Bogart had been a close
friend of mine, he smiled in the flustered, fragile
way I came to know very well. “Bogart.” he said,
his voice so soft one could scarcely hear it above
the wind. “I’ve always had this thing about him.

He was my favorite actor. I saw Treasure of the
Sierra’ Madre—oh, over and over. One of the
reasons I liked that picture so much was—the old
man in it, Walter Huston? that played the crazy
gold prospector?—-he was just like my father,
Tex Smith. Just like him. I couldn’t get over it.
It really hit me.”’ Then he said: ‘Were you there
last night? When they brought us in?”

He was referring to the previous evening when
the two handcuffed murderers, escorted by a
regiment of state troopers, had arrived by car
from Las Vegas, where they were arrested, to be
arraigned at the Finney County courthouse in
Garden City, Kans. Hundreds of people had
waited for hours in the dark and zero cold to
glimpse them; the crowd, orderly, almost awe-
somely hushed, had filled the square. The press,
too, had been heavily represented by newsmen
from all over the West and Midwest; there were
also several television crews.

I told him yes, I’d been present—and had minor
pneumonia to prove it. Well, he said, he was sorry
about that: ‘‘Pneumonia is nothing to fool around
with, But tell me—I was so scared I couldn’t see
what was happening. When I saw that crowd, I
thought, Jesus, these people are going to tear us
limb from limb. To hell with the public hangman.
They were going to hang us on the spot. Which
maybe wouldn’t have been the worst idea. I mean,
what’s the use of going through this whole ordeal?
Trial and everything. It’s such a farce. These
prairie-billies, they’ll hang us in the long run.”
He chewed his lip; something shy and bashful
happened to his face—the aw-gee expression of a
kid digging his toe into the ground. “What I
wanted to know is—were there any representa-
tives of the cinema there?”

This was typical of Perry—of his pathetic
linguistic pretentions (the careful insertion of
words like “cinema’’), and of the kind of vanity
that made him welcome “recognition” regardless
of its nature. He tried to disguise it. shrug it off,
but nevertheless he was undeniably gratified
when I informed him that indeed the event had
been recorded by motion-picture cameras.

Now. seven yéars later, I laughed to myself at
the recollection. but I avoided answering Brooks’s
query because the young men who were playing
Perry and Dick were standing nearby, and I felt
extremcly uneasy in their presence. Self-conscious.
I had seen photographs of Robert Blake (Perry)
and Scott Wilson (Dick) before they were selected
for the roles. But it wasn’t until I went to Kansas
to follow the progress of the film that I met them.
And meeting them, having to be around them,
was not an experience I care to repeat. This has
nothing to do with my reaction to them as private
individuals: They both are sensitive, seriously
gifted men. It’s simply that, despite the clear
physical resemblance to the original pair, their
photographs had not prepared me for the mes-
merizing reality.

Particularly Robert Blake. The first time I saw
him I thought a ghost had sauntered in out of the
sunshine, slippery-haired and sleepy-eyed. I
couldn’t accept the idea that this was someone
pretending to be Perry, he was Perry—and the
sensation I felt was like a free fall down an eleva-
tor shaft. Here were the familiar eyes, placed in a
familiar face, examining me with the detachment
of a stranger. It was as though Perry had been
resurrected but was suffering from amnesia and
remembered me not at all. Shock, frustration,
helplessness—these emotions, combined with im-
pending flu. sent me home to a motel on the out-
skirts of Garden City. The Wheat Lands Motel,
a place I had often stayed during the years I
worked on /n Cold Blood. An accumulated remem-
brance of those years, the loneliness of the endless
wintry nights with forlorn salesmen coughing

next door, seized me like a sudden Kansas cyclone
and threw me on the bed.

To quote from my day-to-day journal: ‘“Pres-
ently passed out, having drunk a pint of Scotch
in less than thirty minutes. Woke in the morning
with fever, television still going and total lack of
knowledge of where I was or why. All unreal be-
cause too real, as reality’s reflections tend to be.
Called Dr. Maxfield, who gave me an injection
and several prescriptions. But the trouble is in
my mind (?).”

That phrase, ‘“‘reality’s reflections,” is self-
explanatory, but perhaps I ought to clarify my
own interpretation of it. Reflected reality is the
essence of reality, the truer truth. When I was a
child I played a pictorial game. I would, for ex-
ample, observe a landscape: trees and clouds and
horses wandering in grass; then select a detail
from the overall vision—say grass bending in
the breeze—and frame it with my hands. Now
this detail became the essence of the landscape
and caught, in prismatic miniature, the true at-
mosphere of a panorama too sizable to encompass
otherwise. Or if I was in a strange room, and
wanted to understand the room and the nature of
its inhabitants, I let my eye wander selectively
until it discovered something—a shaft of light,
an untuned piano, a pattern in the rug—that
seemed of itself to contain the secret. All art is
composed of selected detail, either imaginary, or,
as in Jn Cold Blood, a distillation of reality. As
with the book, so with the film—except that I had
chosen my details from life, while Brooks had
distilled his from my book: reality twice trans-
posed, and all the truer for it.

As soon as the book was published, many pro-
ducers and directors expressed a desire to make a
film of it. Actually, I had already decided that if
a film was to be made I wanted the writer-director
Richard Brooks to act as intermediary between
book and screen. Aside from my long-standing
respect for his imaginative professionalism, he
was the only director who agreed with—-and was
willing to risk—-my own concept of how the book
should be transferred to film. He was the one
person who entirely accepted two important
points: I wanted the film made in black and
white, and I wanted it played by a cast of un-
knowns—-that is, actors without “public’’ faces.
Although Brooks and I have different sensibili-
ties, we both wanted the film to duplicate reality.
to have the actors resemble their prototypes as
much as possible, and to have every scene filmed
in its real locale: The house of the murdered
Clutter family; the same Kansas variety store
where Perry and Dick bought the rope and tape
used to bind their four victims; and certain court-
houses, prisons, filling stations, hotel rooms and
highways and city streets—all those places that
they had seen in the course of their crime and its
aftermath. A complicated procedure, but the only
possible one by which almost all elements of fan-
tasy could be removed and reality thereby achieve
its proper reflection.

I felt this particularly strongly when Brooks
and I went into the Clutter house while Brooks
was preparing to film the murder sequence. To
quote from my journal again: “Spent the after-
noon at the Clutter farm. A curious experience to
find myself once more in this house where I have
so often been, and heretofore under such silent
circumstances: The silent house, the plain rooms,
the hardwood floors that echo every footstep,
the windows that look out on solemn prairies and
fields tawny with wheat stubble. No one has
really lived there since the murders. The prop-
erty was bought by a Texan who farms the land,
and who has a son who occasionally stays there.
Certainly it has not gone to ruin; nevertheless it
seems abandoned, a scarecrow without crows to

Kenyon Clutter

40 A TOMB |

officers, Perry Edward Smith (in
City from Nevada to face first-
four members of Clutter family.

CRIME DETECTIVE

Richard Eugene Hickock faints, af-
ter confessing his terrible crime.
He is held up by Clarence £. Duntz,
Kansas _ investigator, left, and: Lt.

H. Handlon of Las Vegas, rt.

Slaughter on
Sunday
(Continued from page 29)

named Hickock, the other Smith. You
are wanted in Kansas as parole violators.
Now, get out of that car.”

Smith and Hickock got out. Handlon
frisked them expertly, assured himself they
were unarmed, and escorted them to the
police station. He locked them in cells
and instructed Desk Sergeant John Carlyle
to telephone the KBI, informing them of
the arrest.

On December 30th two cars set out on
the 1,020-mile trip from Kansas to Las
Vegas. Making the trip were Agent Dewey,
Sheriff Robinson and KBI Agents Nye,
Duntz and Church. The officers encoun-
tered a severe blizzard en route and
arrived in Las Vegas on January 2nd.

They first conferred with Lieutenant
Handlon, who had already questioned the
suspects about the Clutter murders. Hand-
lon had found his prisoners sullenly un-
communicative. “They’re not in a talking
mood,” he observed. “But they told me
they intend to waive the extradition pro-
cedure. They are willing to return to
Kansas to answer the parole-breaking
charges.”

Hickock and Smith were brought from
their cells and taken to separate offices.
The Kansas officers split their forces, so
that each prisoner was questioned out of
earshot of the other. Both flatly denied
having been in the vicinity of Holcomb
or the Clutter home at the time of the
four murders.

After a session lasting several hours, the
men were returned to their cells. The
officers pooled their notes. Smith, they
decided, was the tougher of the pair.
Hickock, some three years younger than
his partner, was defiant but quite ob-
viously nervous. It was agreed that on
the following day the interrogation would
be concentrated mainly on Hickock.

Agents Dewey and Duntz, Sheriff Rob-
inson and Lieutenant Handlon conducted
the bulk of the questioning. As the
hours passed, Hickock’s evasions became
more and more confused. Discrepancies
began to appear in his story, and shortly
after 7 o’clock on the evening of January
3rd, he began to weep. What happened
then, according to detectives, went as
follows:

“All right,” Hickock said, “I was mixed
up in it. Smith and I had planned for a
long time to rob Clutter, ever since we
heard how rich he was from another con
in the pen at Lansing.”

Hickock went on to say that he and
Smith had entered the Clutter home at
about 1 a.m. on that fatal Sunday. The
front door was open. They walked into
a ground floor bedroom, where they
found Herbert Clutter asleep.

“We thought that there was a safe in
the house,” said Hickock. “So we took
Clutter upstairs. We roused his wife and
the two kids and locked them in the bath-
room. But we couldn’t find a safe any-
where at all.”

Annoyed, the intruders then took Clut-
ter and his son to the basement and bound
and gagged them with cord and cloth which
Smith and Hickock had brought with

them. Clutter was shot first, then his
throat was cut. The boy, Kenyon, died
next.

The murderers then released Mrs. Clut-
ter and her daughter from the bathroom.
Each woman was securely tied and gagged

and placed upon her own bed. Then each
was shot. The quadruple slaying had been
done with a shotgun, the whereabouts of
which Hickock said he didn’t know.

Asked why they had wiped out the
whole family, police said Hickock replied,
“Well, we just didn’t want any witnesses.”

As the officials reconstructed their move-
ments, the pair stayed in Finney County
for a few days, and had cashed a couple
of bad checks. Then they headed north
in Hickock’s car, which they later aban-
doned in Iowa. In Grant City they stole
the sedan in which Las Vegas Lieutenant
Handlon had apprehended them. But
before their capture they had done a great
deal of traveling. They had been to Mexico
City, among other places. It was there,
Hickock said, that they had pawned the
portable radio, the only piece of loot ac-
quired during the crime.

When, at the officers’ request, Hickock
recorded his confession on tape, they
said he blamed Smith for his present
dilemma. Smith, Hickock alleged, had
done the actual killings. Smith had talked
him into the whole idea. At this point,
Hickock fainted. When he was revived,
Lieutenant Handlon had to support him
as he was conducted back to his cell.

Smith was brought into the room. Asked
again about his involvement in the crime,
Smith eyed his interrogators coolly and
reportedly said, “I won't exactly deny
anything. But I’m not going to admit
anything, either.”

Handlon switched on the recorder and
played back Hickock’s confession. Smith
listened impassively. “That,” he remarked
at the tape’s conclusion, “is what he says.
I just don’t go along with it.”

THE PAYOFF

In San Francisco, California, an II-
year-old youngster, in a moment of
boredom, "borrowed" $5 from the
cookie jar containing the family's new
car fund and had himself a whale of a
day at the movies, penny arcades and
hot dog stands. He even bought a
raffle ticket on a new car. Finally he
returned home, weary but satisfied, and
no one the wiser. The rifling of the
cookie jar had not been detected.

But, lest the juvenile adventurer
should convince himself that crime
sometimes does pay, came the payoff.
A local automobile dealer phoned the
family to ask where he should deliver
the car the youth had won.

—D. Murray

For the next two hours, Smith didn’t
say much of anything else.

On Monday, January 4th, the authorities
announced that Hickock’s confession was
signed, witnessed, and delivered to Sheriff
Robinson’s wallet. That same morning,
the trip back to Garden City began. Hick-
ock traveled in the first car, along with
the sheriff, Nye and Church.

Smith, his black hair and sideburns plas-
tered close to his skull, was escorted to the
second car by Dewey and Clarence Duntz.
The long trip home began. The officers ex-
pected to make it in two days of continued
driving.

In the front car, Hickock was silent. He
seemed lost in melancholy thought. In
the second car, Smith assumed a forced
gaiety. Dewey and Duntz questioned him
constantly about the crime. They never
received a direct answer.

On the second afternoon of the journey,
the police cars passed through Southern
Colorado. Now Smith was patently nerv-
ous. He twisted his fingers about a dirty
handkerchief. He licked his dry lips
often. At last, he said, “You guys don’t
want to believe everything Hickock told

ou.”

“All right,” said Dewey, “put us straight.”

As Dewey later described the scene to
the press, Smith stared out the window.
He did not speak for a long time. Finally,
he said, “I was in it with him, all right.
But it was his idea, not mine.”

Suddenly, Smith began to open up. The
words fell from his lips in a torrent. It
was as if he were finding some swift and
consoling release from his own con-
science. The story he told was, in all
principal respects, the same as the one
Hickock had related in the recording,
police said. There was one difference:
Whereas Hickock had blamed Smith for
the major part in the crime, Smith blamed
Hickock.

“It was a crazy thing to do,” the officers
quoted Smith. “All we got was that
lousy radio. We figured that dead men
tell no tales. I reckon we figured wrong.”

On January 6th an agent dispatched
to Mexico City by the FBI found the
missing portable radio. The men who
had stolen it were held securely in the
Garden City jail. And County Attorney
Duane West was waiting for them.

West made out a single complaint listing
all four deaths, and charging Smith and
Hickock with first-degree murder. He filed
the complaint before Judge M. C. Schrader
of the county court. On the following
day the prisoners were arraigned before
Judge Schrader, who ordered them held
without bail for action by the Finney
County grand jury. They were officially
charged with murder in the first degree.

On that same day, a search of a farm
owned by Hickock’s father about two miles
from Edgerton, Kansas, was made by KBI
agents. In the house they found a pair of
boots whose soles had a distinctive dia-
mond-shaped tread. Later this tread was
found to match precisely the ~narkings
found in the dust on the cardboard mat-
tress cover on which the body of Herbert
Clutter had lain. A shotgun, a box of shells
and a knife, said to be owned by the
younger’ Hickock, were reported to have
been found in the barn.

According to the postmistress of Hol-
comb, which has a population of about 270
persons, “The townspeople are glad the
crime has been solved, but plenty of folks
are still keeping guns in their houses.”

Up the road, seven miles from Garden
City, the Clutter house is empty and silent.
Alfred Stoecklein attends to the chores by
himself. Sunday mornings are still quiet
in rural Kansas and, in the vicinity of the
fertile Clutter acres, they are quieter than
ever before. rx x)

The D
Story

already seat

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said, made i:

to have iron

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bankers in }
“T don’t ec
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George We
they weren't
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told the boss

“T can har
said Hines ar

George ex;
worry about
sequential pin
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big bank or p
some eager-b
pinch, they
case would bi
magistrate’s <
people in Ha
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Dutch Schi
Weinberg, sea
out a fat ro}
$1,000.

“I want yo
hereafter, and
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wh the a
the Schultz
handsome. \
their policy
to maneuver t:
Magistrates. \
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men who per
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to uniform an:
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Dixie Davis,
pered. He was
senting Schultz
became so bris
to help him an
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of $13,000 a ye

The policy
cascading into
such an unendi)
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racket by comr
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$65,000 a day, «

Schultz drew
a payment list:
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some extra cash
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Seon

SLAUGHTER ON MOA

(2D April, 1960)

In Garden City, Kansas, on March
30th, an all-male jury found Richard
Hickock and Perry Smith guilty of mur-
der in the first degree and decreed death
on the gallows for both.

Nancy Clutter

THE SECRET LIFE
OF DR. FINCH

(TD November, 1959)

The secret life of Dr. Raymond Ber-
nard Finch, 41, and his mistress, red-
haired Carole Tregoff, 22, has been no
secret from the public during the past
three months while they were ori trial

for the murder of Dr. Finch’s wife Bar-’

one

bara, on July 18, 1959, at the swanky
Finch home in West Covina, California.

On March 18th Superior Judge John
G. Barnes granted Carole bail of $25,000,
and Carole was released.

THE CORPSE IN THE
SWIMMING POOL

(TD February, 1960)

On October 25, 1959, the body of
Chelcie Tidd was found floating in the
swimming pool of the home Tidd shared
with a friend, a knife thrust into his
back.

Clues were a shirt the slayer left be-
hind and some fingerprints. These led
to the arrest on November 6th, in Mi-
ami, of James Seitz on a charge of first-
degree murder. Seitz claimed that Tidd
had invited him to his home, then
threatened to call the cops and have him
arrested. In the ensuing struggle, Seitz
struck Tidd with a_ statuette, then
stabbed him and threw him into the
pool. :

On March 24, 1960, a 12-man circuit
court jury, after 90 minutes’ delibera-
tion, found Seitz guilty of first-degree
murder. The jury recommended mercy,
which carried a-‘mandatory life sentence.

Seitz threw the court into an uproar
by shouting obscenities and screaming,
“This isn’t a fair trial!” Judge Harold R.
Vann. rejected Defense Attorney Al
Killiam’s motion for a mistrial, and de-
ferred delivering the mandatory sen-
tence of life imprisonment.

Report of latest legal developments
on eases published by TD

THE CORPSE IN THE
EVENING GOWN

(TD March, 1960)

Arrested November 17th at Hermosil-
lo, Mexico, Tord confessed forcing Mrs.
Lenorak into his car at gun point and
driving her into the desert and killing
her. He gave no motive for the. crime.

In the court of Superior Judge Hilton
McCabe in Indio, California, Tord, a
would-be cowboy, pleaded guilty on
March 1, 1960, to first-degree murder.

On March 22nd, after studying the
complete record of psychiatric exami-
nations of the confessed slayer, Judge
McCabe sentenced Tord Ove Zeppen-
Field to life imprisonment.

BABY DIDN'T WANT TO GO HOME

(TD August, 1959)

Tried before a tribunal of common
‘pleas judges, Cinalt was convicted on
October 29, 1959, and on November 3rd
he was sentenced to life imprisonment
in the Ohio State Penitentiary at Co-
lumbus.

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belly was :;
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Cee eraser

~ AVERY ROOM IN THE

HICKOCK and SMITH, hanged Kangas, 1965

Herb Clutter Bonnie Clutter

by GORDON MACE

66 E keeps thousands in it. All in cash,” the man
confided to his two interested listeners.

“And you say the safe is right in the house?” one of
them asked. “How do you know?”

“Look, I used—”

“Watch it, the guard!” the third man hissed.

The three men stood silent, trying to look calm and
casual, as the guard walked past them in the yard at the
Kansas State Penitentiary. When he was safely out of
earshot, the convict who had been bragging about know-
ing where there was a fortune just waiting for the taking,
went on with his story.

“I used to work for this guy. And he’s got this big
safe right there in the farmhouse, and he keeps it loaded
with cash. T saw it with my own eyes,”

“How about that? People sure do stupid things,” one
of his listeners commented.

As the two men walked away from him, the convict
who had been basking in the reflected glory of knowing
“a farmer who kept thousands in cash lying around his
place” chuckled to himself about how he had taken in
those two so-called “sharpies” with his whopper. Then he,
too, walked off and he forgot about the conversation,

B: the two convicts who had listened attentively to
every detail of his story didn’t forget it. And from
their recollection of it, grew one of the bloodiest crimes in
the history of Kansas—a crime that still has the state’s
normally easygoing citizens appalled.

The extent of the horror came to light slowly on Sun-
day, November 15, 1959—a pleasant, bright day in the
area around Garden City, Kansas. Teenager Nancy Ewalt

CLUTTER

MASSACRE

Nancy Clutter Kenyon Clutter

HOUSE WAS A TOMB

Flanked on all sides by police officers, Perry Edward Smith (in
handcuffs) is brought to Garden City from Nevada to face first-
degree murder charge for slaying four members of Clutter family.

CRIME DETECTIVE

CRIME DETECTIVE,

KXREX April, 1964

be easy ot linpossible to trace whoever
did this thing.”

Jamon Gonzales, Witchita Falla. fine
gor-print expert, made his report, "No
prints worth a.dime,” he said, “but I
can tell you there waa another man
In the car-—and of course a womun.
There was a muddy imprint of a man’s
shoe on the floor mat, It is too big
for Richet to have made and the mud
is fresh. It’s the same sort of soil we
have around here,”

“I see what you mean,” Allen sald.

_“The killer picked it up out there—
probably while carrying Richet’s body,
‘Then he got back into the car and ‘it
stalled.”

“And he’s likely hiking down the
highway right now,” Deputy Pogue
put in. : ,

The Sheriff nodded and returned
then to his office. Aside from calling all
near-by towns, he called. the Texas
State Highway Police at Austin, ask-
ing them to broadcast a pick-up for
all hitch-hikers, especially any man
and woman traveling together. Then

~ he called the Oklahoma State Police at
Oklahoma City and asked their co-
operation in the same manner.

A call to Independence, Kansas, was
delayed because hho telephone was
listed under Richet’s name. However,
the police of that city called back to
Wichita Falls with all the information
Allen could ask for.

f bees dead man was without any

doubt George Richet. He was mar-
ried. and the father of several chil-
dren. He had been unemployed for
several months, then a friend, Guy H.
Gilstrap, had wired him from Lub-
bock, Texas, about a job. Richet had
started for Lubbock immediately—and
alone. He had had less than $20 in his
pockets and he had borrowed this from
friends. His wife did not smoke, so
the cigarette butts could not have been
left in the car by her. The car be-
longed to Richet. He never had been
known to pick up a hitch-hiker.

“And that leaves us a blank trail,”
Sheriff Allen said dryly. “Excepting
that he did pick up a hitch-hiker. Two
of them, in fact.”

“Not necessarily,” Deputy Hart com- .

mented. “It could be that those people

were hiking along the road about the °

place where Richet was killed. His
car stalled there and they came upon
im trying to get it started.”

Allen shook his head. “No,” he said.

“Richet was killed in the car, with .

: own hatchet. He wouldn’t let
someone walk up and open his tool kit.
T'l_take the hitch-hiker angle.”
He sat for a moment in deep silence.
Then, “Hart,” he said, “this is quite a
~job I’m tossing your way, but I want
a to play it hard. I want you to
“leave here right now. Go back over
the route Richet followed to here. Stop

“

Officers examined Richet’s car in. which he was slain
in an effort to find clews that would lead to the killer

oD—3

Sylvia Phipps: She lost track of the man who was
going to show her how to make $1,000,000

at every filling-station and restaurant
on the way. Take Richet’s picture
with you. Ask if he bought gas, ate
or whatever—and ask who was with
him. What the people looked like.” .
“That is a job,” the Deputy said
and whistled. “It will take me a
month,” :
“It will take quite a while,” the

‘Sheriff agreed, “and yet you'll have

this advantage: Likely Richet stopped
only at cut-rate gas-stations and small
restaurants. After all, he had but little
money. He wasn’t traveling in style.”

“T’ll try it, of course,” Deputy Hart
said.

Accompanied by City Detective Bus-
ter Hanaway, he left Wichita Falls
within the hour. Between them and
Independence, Kansas, lay about 350
miles of road and dozens of towns—
some of them very large. But, they
reasoned, in the large cities such as
Oklahoma City and Tulsa, they could
eliminate all downtown establishments
and stick to the highway.

As soon as Hart had gone, the Sher-
iff made an effort to reach Guy Gil-

strap on the phone. Unable to do so,

-he decided to drive to Lubbock, about

200 miles west.

“While I’m gone,” he told Deputy
Pogue, “you keep busy. Among other
things, call all the depots down the
line. Maybe our birds picked up a
train after they killed their man.”

At nine o’clock that night the Sher-
iff found the dead man’s friend.

“I read about it,” Gilstrap said. “It’s
plenty bad. George was a good fellow
—one of my best friends.”

“I thought maybe you could help,
me,” Allen said.

GIWSTRAP shook his head. “I’d
sure as the world like to, but I
don’t know a thing.”
“Was Richet supposed to pick up
anyone else on the way down here?”
Again Guy Gilstrap shook his head. .
Then, “At least I don’t know of any-
one,” he said. “No reason why he
should. He needed work and I found
a job for him and wired him. He wired
back he would come. There was just
(Continued on Page 31)

this hamburger - joint to get a ‘sand-

more than once, it is possible many
times to discover what these repre-

Which of ihe.

the one job. No reason why he should
bring somebody else along- to -share
it with him.”

“What about women?” Allen asked.
“Did he have any yen for them?”

“Not George. He was nuts about his
wife and family.” Gilstrap went on
to say that he often had traveled with
Richet from one job to another and
that the murdered man never picked
anyone up. “He always said there was
no sense in it—that a man was not any
better off where you let him out than
he was where you picked him up,”’
Gilstrap added.

“He either picked somebody up or
brought somebody with him,” Allen
said. “And it looks like he brought
somebody with him — somebody that
was pretty sore at him. He was not
‘robbed and the killer sure did himself
a job.”

i rex following morning Allen re-
turned to Wichita Falls and: to what
looked like a break in the case.

“We got ourselves a man,” Deputy
Pogue greeted him. “The Oklahoma
State cops picked him up on the road
outside Walton and brought him down
here. He’s got a lot of blood on him
and he’s been banged up pretty much.
More than that, he made a crack in a

'. hamburger joint in Walton —some-

thing about having killed himself a
man.”

“Looks like you’ve got something,
all right,” Sheriff Allen agreed and
ordered the prisoner brought to his
office.

He was a burly man, about 40 years
old. His suit was wrinkled and spotted
with dark stains. His shirt was bloody
and his face battered. One eye was
swollen shut.

His name, he said, was Cal Blair and |

he was from Lincoln, Nebraska. “I
went on the rocks down at Fort Worth
and was trying to make it. back home,”
he said. ae read aoe ;

-..<“And this. man, you, were: bragging.
about. killing,” A en said.» ‘What:

Se obout him?”

“They got that all wrong, Sheriff,”
the man whined. “TI didn’t say that. I
hada couple dimes and I went into

Vt eevee OLA UDO AUT Ady VU-Ve. fad

the message is examined more and
more such equations can be set up and

80,000 Is Sylvia? (Continued from Page 7) ogre

wich. The counter man asked me
where I got the shiner. I said a fellow:
beat up on me and if I ever got the
chance he’d get his. I was just talking
and it don’t mean a thing.”

“Who mauled you?”

“A guy in a hobo jungle,” the man
said. “It was night before last. We
had .a bottle and I got organized and
then went to sleep. He tried to roll
me and I woke up. I was laying down,
of course, and he had the edge on me.
So I got this face out of it and he got
away. That’s all there was to it, but if
I ever find this guy Till give him a
worse dose than he gave me.”

“Who was this man and where did
this happen?”

“Just a guy I got together with on
the road,” Blair said. “I don’t know
who he is. It was between here and
Fort Worth.”

“A man named. George Richet was
killed down the line a ways,” the Sher-
iff said pointedly.

YU-1L1L-OV-UL-40 UdS—-LU-GU-Z0-13
03-75-76-03-46 27-77-49-04-55
60-30-44-61-45 15-05-56-12-57

“Not by me, he wasn’t,”
shouted. _ — ae ae en

“All right,” Allen told’ him. “Take
that shirt off and we'll find out about
that.”

The man’s eyes shifted nervously
and his face paled. “What do you
want with my shirt?” he asked plain-
tively. oe,

“Take it off!” Allen snapped.

The shirt, along with a sample of
Richet’s blood, was sent to the State
chemist at Austin. The man who
called himself Cal Blair was locked
up, pending the chemist’s: report.

“Even without that report, it looks
like we’ve got something,” Allen said
to Pogue.

But late that afternoon he wasn’t
so sure. Detective Eugene Brown
came into the Sheriff’s office. With
him was a small, spectacled man
whom he introduced asa ticket agent
from Jolly, Texas. “I brought him
here because Richet was killed in the

message can be deciphered. Further
information on cryptography will ap-
pear in the June issue,

Read It First in
AL DETECTIVE STORIES

county and the chief told me to work
with you,” Brown explained.

““All right, what is it?” Allen asked
impatiently. .

“You tell the Sheriff what you told
me,” Brown told the ticket agent. —

““Well—” the old man hesitated—“
heard about this murder and you know
Jolly is just about five miles froni‘
where the body was found. Well, that
morning—it was about four o’clock—a
fellow came into the station and asked
me if I’d flag a train for him. To Fort
Worth. I told him there wouldn’t be
any train to Fort Worth for several .
hours. He asked me if there wasn’t
another train sooner than that. I told
him there was, but it went the other
direction.”

“And—” the Sheriff prompted.

“That’s what’s funny. This man said
for me to flag that one for him.”

“And did you?”

“Yes, I did. He bought a ticket to
Wichita Falls. I flagged the train and

For Only A Quarter!

You Get Slick Shaves Every Time "
» With PROBAK JR. Blades... Twenty«

‘»” RECEPTACLE FOR

USED BLADES INSIDE!

“Never heard of it,” the suspect
snapped.

“Sylvia.Phipps says you have. In
fact, she says she watched you kill a
man just outside of town there. You
don’t suppose she could be lying? Tell
you what, there’s a station agent down
that way—and a waitress in Bartles-
ville, Oklahoma, and a service-station
operator in Tulsa who claim they
know you. If you’ve never been down
that way, maybe you’d like to see the
country and do yourself some good at
the same time.”

“I got no time to be running around,”
Hoefgen said. “I got work to do.”

Turning to the city policeman, Allen
said, “You take him in. I’ll run down

"| Couldn't See a

- Headquarters for questioning. And, as

in all homicide cases, the routine check
was made on each alibi.

Detectives had gone to the rooming-
house where she lived and had ques-
tioned Rudolph Michelotti, the land-
lord, and one of the roomers. Both
said that Dubois had been there late

‘in the afternoon of the preceding day

and had had a violent argument with
Mary Burbulis. He returned again,
around midnight, pretty drunk, and
inquired if Mary Burbulis was home
and when told that she wasn’t, he
walked away dejected.

At the restaurant where he said he
had spent his time until morning, the
detectives learned that he had been
there but nobody seemed to remem-
ber how long he stayed or whether he
was gone for any period of time.

An exhaustive search was made into
every movement Miss Burbulis had
made the night before her body was
found. Hundreds of persons were
questioned, but her trail ended abrupt-
ly when she walked out of the bar at
one o’clock with the sailor and the

to Lincoln and talk to the governor.”

Ernest Hoefgen was arrested but it
was unnecessary to extradite him. He
expressed a willingness to return to
Texas and that same day he and Syl-
via Phipps started that journey with
Sheriff Allen and the Assistant Dis-
trict Attorney.

On September 12, 1940, his trial be- —

gan, with his one-time road companion
appearing as the chief witness for the
State. Other witnesses were the sta-
tion agent from Jolly, the Bartles-
ville waitress and the station operator
from Tulsa. ;
Hoefgen entered a plea of not guilty.
The jury did not agree with him and
took but little time in returning their

CT mere te ee

verdict and recommendation. Ernest
Hoefgen was sentenced to life im-
prisonment in the Texas State Peni-

tentiary, at Huntsville.
Sylvia ipde? ater helping to send
her former lover to prison, was re-

turned to Nebraska to finish serving
her reformatory sentence there. and
Sheriff Allen marked closed to a long,
hard and bloody case.

To protect an innocent man, a pseu-
donym, Cal Blair, has been used in
this story. W

Another picture with this story is on
Page 35.

Good Girl Ruined" (Continued from Page 4)

She passed the informant’s table and
muttered to-her, “I think somebody is

. going to kill me tonight.”

Police tried to trace the call. Since
it had come from a pay. station and
had been received at the pay station in
the bar, this attempt was futile.

Who had threatened to kill her?
Where had she disappeared when she
walked out of the bar, laughingly tell-
ing a. friend she was going to marry a
sailor? How did she get in that iso-
lated alley? ss

THESE questions and a hundred

others flashed through the detectives’
minds as they tried vainly to unravel
the maze of threads that had been
woven into that pattern of brutal
death. ~

. But as the police struggled with

these unanswered questions, other de-
tectives sat quietly in a great, white
room and worked slowly and patiently
and with painstaking details.

These were the white-gowned men
who work in the scientific laboratory.
You never see their names in the

subjected to careful analysis under
the microscope, with the possibility
that, in her struggle against death,
she had clawed the fiesh or the clothes
of her killer.

However, the microscopic examina-
tion showed no traces of cloth or blood
or human fiesh. ee

The autopsy surgeons had found
slight. abrasions and deep discolora-
tions on the skin of the dead girl’s
neck. The size and position of these
marks at first puzzled the physicians,
as the marks were too large to have
been .made by a man’s hand and were
not in the position for hand throttling.

Because of the pressure exerted in
‘killing Mary Burbulis, the position

‘of these discolored points and the fact

that no skin or blood was found under

‘the victim’s nails, the doctors decided

she was killed in this manner: The
killer approached the girl from be-
hind, threw his arm around her neck
and squeezed it in a vice-like grip.
Since this attack had been made from
behind, the slender blonde had not
been able to claw her assailant.

ree wren ge ae oe

ors ’

@ A FEW MINUTES A

DAY TO MASSAGE

SCALP: AND HAIR
VIGOROUSLY

~~ AAA

with this common-sense
antiseptic hair tonic

JERIS

~~ OO O OO

> he got on it, Maybe it doesn’t mean a
) thing, but 1 thought it was funny.”
oy “Did you talk to him? Did he give
eny epplanation for ohanging direc
ae ons
eh “He said he was hitch-hiking and
that a ig gave him a ride and let
him out In Jolly, 1t was too small a
~ town, he said, for him to do any good.
' He didn’t care which way he went go
long as it was to a bigger town.”
: “Was there a woman ‘with him?”
“No, not that I saw, He just bought
» One ticket and he got on the train by
« himself,”
blood on him?”
“I didn’t see any, Sheriff.”
> “Well, tell me all about him. How
©» old was he? What did he look like?
*> How tall? How much did he weigh?
fut Nebeee sort of clothes was he wear-
ae ig ie
aa The elderly ticket agent stood a mo-
~~ ment in thoughtful silence, Finally he
Said, “He was maybe thirty years old,
~a-fairly tall man. He had on a good
suit, dark, His hair was dark, too, and
he was a neat fellow. Sort of ladies’-
man type and I suppose he weighed
around a hundred and_ seventy-five
pounds—maybe five pounds one way
or the other. That’s about all I can
- tell you about him.”
“That’s pretty good,” the Sheriff:
said. “Lots better than most.” He.
_ added, “We got a fellow in jail here.
---He doesn’t look like that but I want
you to have a look at him just the
same.

GAL BLAIR was brought from his

. cell. The ticket agent looked at

=> him and shook his head. “It wasn’t

\- this man,” he said positively.

.* Again the Sheriff got the Texas and
~ Oklahoma State Police on the phone.

He gave them a description of the

man who was not particular what di- *[

rection he was traveling so long as he

got away from the neighborhood of

George Richet’s murder. He sent men

to the Wichita Falls bus terminal and

_ to the depots, but they learned nothing.

. “He might not be our man,” the

«, Sheriff said, “but I’d sure like to

~~. know why he was so anxious to go
places.”

Two days later he was more anxious
than ever to talk to this man. Deputy
ve Eart and Detective Hanaway returned
=". from their long trip. “We struck pay

dirt in Tulsa,” “Hart said. “I found
a. filling-station operator there who
recalled Richet. No doubt of that. He
told me the sort of car Richet was

.» driving and the kind of license plates.
Said there was a man and a woman
with him.”

“All right,” Allen said.

“Well, Tulsa is only about a hun-
dred miles from Independence, so I
thought maybe these people were from
there—no matter what Mrs. Richet be-
lieved about it. We went. to Inde-
_ pendence and found where Richet had

filled his tank. He was alone- when
he pulled away from there. We asked
a lot of questions along the road and
»- “finally got a lead on this man and
“*woman—in a_ small restaurant at

Bartlesville. The woman’s name is
Sylvia.”

-. “Sylvia what?” Allen asked.

~- “I don’t know that one, but a
“waitress heard the man call her that.
i,.We got good descriptions of both of

“them. The woman is young and well
- dressed. A slender woman, taller than
*=..most. Maybe five feet eight inches.

-**Good-looking and she weighs around
~ @ hundred and twenty pounds,

».. “The man is about thirty years old. *

He’s tall, too, and dark and well
- dressed. Kind of a movie-actor type,
v= so this waitress in Bartlesville Says.
“<The station operator in Tulsa says the
“same thing.” i ;

“* Sheriff Allen snapped his fingers,

ticket in
wonder

“She maybe went to Lincoln, Ne»
braska,” Hart said, y

The Sheriff looked at him sharply,
He said, “When you get through being
mysterious, maybe you'll tell me what
the rest of the score is,”

"I was getting to that," Tart told
him, “In this Bartlesville restaurant,
the man asked the waitress how many

eople the town claimed, She told
fine about sixteen thousand and the
woman remarked that Lincoln was five
times that big. The man sald that was

right. So they must have been talking |

about Lincoln, Nebraska, «I figure she
maybe went back there after this
killing. People have a habit of run-
ning for home. when they’re in
trouble.”

“So all we've got to do is to find a

EET ag S

man Was teleased and ordered to leave
town

“T either have to that or charge
him," the Sheriff said? “And I haven't
got anything to charge him~with.”

He prepared complete descriptions
of the man and woman and had several
thousand copies printed. These were
mailed to every city and hamlet in
Nebraska, Particular stress was lald
on the name “Sylvia.” “If any woman
by this name who meets this descrip-
tlon, or If any woman using this name
is picked up, no matter what the
charge, hold her for the Sheriff's office
at Wichita Falls, Texas,” the circular
ended. 4

“Until then,” he told his deputies,
“we can't do a lot but pick up hitch-
hikers and listen to them talk.”

Many curious persons were attracted to the scene where George Richet
was slain, but their help in the search for clews was unavailing

girl named Sylvia in a town of eighty
thousand people,” the Sheriff said
tiredly.. Nevertheless he was proud of
the work his Deputy had done and he
= that the end of the case was in
sight. /

He called the railway ticket office
and asked them to give him a list of all
tickets sold on the day Richet’s body
was found. When he got this report,
he was vastly encouraged. One ticket
had been sold to Lincoln, Nebraska,
though the agent did not know if the
purchaser was a man or woman.

“They split up, apparently,” Allen
said to Hart. “But they'll go to the
same place. A man always follows his
woman—or the other way around.”

“This guy in jail, this fellow who
says his name is Blair, claims to
be from Lincoln,” Hart said. “I won-
der if that means anything?”

“I’ve been thinking about that my-
self,” the Sheriff answered, “I got a
report from the:State chemist. The
blood on his shirt and Richet’s blood
don’t match. But this Lincoln business

something else: again. Yet,” he
added, “there were not two men in the
car with Richet—not so far as we
know.”

Nevertheless he sent for Cal Blair
and for more than two hours grilled
him. He thought the man was lying
about something, yet he was quite sure
Blair had not been with the man and
woman from Lincoln. It seemed one
of those awkward coincidences which

often mess up an investigation. The

Many men and women were picked
up, questioned, then released—and the
hunt for a 120-pound, slender, dark-
complexioned girl named Sylvia went
tirelessly on.

On July 8, 1940, word came that a
woman named Sylvia Phipps had been
arrested and sentenced to the Nebraska
Women’s Reformatory at York, Imme-
diately Sheriff Allen and Assistant
District Attorney C. C. Lillenore left
for Nebraska. The following day they
were in York, talking to Sylvia Phipps.

At first she had nothing to say. Then
Sheriff Allen said, “Well, if you want
to take it on the chin by yourself, it’s
your business. We’ve got plenty people
who can swear you were in George
Richet’s car the day he was killed,
Who was the guy with you and why
did he kill Richet? He did kill him,
didn’t he?”

“What's there in it for me if I talk?”
the woman asked.

“The electric chair
Allen snapped.

if you don’t,”

The woman was silent for a long .

moment. Finally she said, “I was there.
I saw Mr. Richet killed, but I wasn’t
in on it. The man who killed him is
Ernest Hoefgen.”

“Who is Ernest Hoefgen—and where
is he now?” the Sheriff asked.

“He’s a fellow who was going to
show me how to make a million dol-
lars,” the woman said bitterly. “I
don’t know where he is and I don’t
care. He might be in Hastings. He
used to live there,”

“How come you two split up that
morning?”

“Boonie he killed Mr, Richet, That's
why. We were headed for California,
We were just north of Bartlesville
when Mr, Richet came by, He had a
flat tlre and Krnest helped him change
it. He gave us a ride. He was a nice
fellow, He told us all about himself,
his wife and children and this new, job
he had in Lubbock. Ernest had been
trying to get hold of a car, On the
other side of Wichita Falls, he reached
back and got a hatchet out of the tool
kit and told Mr. Richet to stop the
car, Mr. Richet tried to put up a fight
and Ernest killed him. Mr. Richet fell
out of the car and Ernest cursed him
and took the wheel and ran the car
back and forth over him a lot of
times. ft

“He was like a wild man. He got
out after a while and dragged Mr.
Richet off the road. He took him up
by the railroad track. When he came
back he said he laid him out real nice,
for somebody to find. : ‘

“TI was scared to death. We got back
in the car and Ernest started it, but
it only went a little ways and stopped.
He couldn’t get it started again and
he went to pieces. I ran off the road
and hid. I was afraid he’d kill me,
too. After a while I knew he was gone
and I started down the road. A truck
came by and I got a ride. Soon as I
could I went back to Lincoln and then
I got into trouble. That’s all I can tell
you and I’m glad it’s off my mind.”

“I should think you would be,”
Allen said distastefully and motioned
for the matron to take the girl away.

In Hastings, Nebraska, they went at
once to the police station. Ernest
Hoefgen was not known there, nor
was his name in the city directory or
the telephone book.

“We can try the beer parlors, pool-
halls and things like that,” the Chief
of Police suggested. “Likely we’ll find
somebody who knows him if he ever
lived here.”

For ten hours the officers askéd
questions — always getting the same
answer. No one seemed to know
Ernest Hoefgen. But just as they were
about to give up, return to York and
ask Sylvia Phipps a few more ques-
tions, they struck his trail.

“Yeah, I know him,” a tavern keeper
said. “He used to come in here with
a swell-looking Jill. But he. hasn’t
been here for some time.”

“You know where he lives?” Allen
asked.

“I know where he used to stay,” the
man said and told them of a large,
stone house on the edge of town. “I
know he did live there because I saw
him come out of the place a time or
two.”

After talking things over, the officers
decided to wait until the following
morning before trying this house. “If
he does live there, he might be out
helling around now,” Allen said. “On
the other hand, he’ll likely be in and
not very alert around daybreak. So

-let’s wait.”

B ech at dawn they went to the stone
house and after a little pounding
aroused the proprietor. ,

“We want to see Ernest Hoefgen,”
Allen said flatly.

He held his breath, waiting for the
sleepy-eyed man’s reply. When it
came, he exhaled a sigh of relief, “I’l]
get him for you,” the proprietor said.

He started down the hallway, fol-
lowed by the officers. He knocked on
a door which, after a time, was opened
by a tall, sleek individual who was
fully dressed.

“All right, what is it?” this man
asked belligerently.

“It’s about a man named George
Richet,” Allen told him.

A spasmodic jerk went over Hoef-

gen’s body, but he said, “Wrong num-.

ber. Never heard of him.”
. “Ever been in Wichita Falls, Texas?”

a ft D a
+ F
f [aad , ,

ay THE DEVIL AND THE DIVORCEE victed on both offenses. ‘ Angeles last week they compelled me to ;a quiet lad. I'll bet
k ' (Continued from page 19) Captain O'Reilly voiced the thoughts come to Las Vegas to make a human hin his life. He dic
Med of the other officers. “Rainsberger may sacrifice. I decided I would sacrifice her. ;swear — and he di
fi have —— out with ne fee hs I forced her to park the car out of frequent. Lee’s th
| 7 ae ; repeating the same type of robbe © sight. i : P little town.”

| | Angeles,” he said. “He movéd out re- _ pulled back in California. But his batied tee of arches on “wr Ping = » Another neighb
N cently. After he left, I-noticed some of women—maybe a compulsion to gain you how I go through it.” » Lowell Lee André

i | of my stuff was missing, along with revenge on any woman for the time he After the “sacrifice” Rainsberger rifled » the woods alone,

Wh identification papers. Maybe he took had to spend in the penitentiary—flamed the victim’s purse and tried to steal her . with noisy crowd

. them, maybe he didn t. up and he exploded out of control, car but got the vehicle stuck in the | had a superior m
What was his name?” ; killing Earline Folker.” sand. He fled on foot, and concocted | know-it-all attitude
k “Rainsberger. Jack Rainsberger.” Sergeant Griffin, working with other the story of a robbery, which he report- f From Lawrence

’ nat Describe him,” Griffin asked. officers in the crackdown on the crack- ed to the sheriff’s office using papers the local investiga
r nat The description was that of a tall, pots, came up with a line on a new stolen from L.O, Mellon to provide ’ with one of the st!
int thin young man with close-cropped face in the crowd—a thin, solemn face a seemingly authentic identity for him- ' same campus ho

black hair and a brooding, high-domed with dark eyes and topped by close- self without revealing his actual name ' itold them he h
face. “Jack was always talking about cropped hair. The newcomer was stop- Detectives, fearing that Rainsberger » Andrews about eig

| higher mathematics and other intellect- ping at the apartment of a friend on was trying to establish a basis for a later / “I met Lee in
ual stuff, Mellon concluded, Seventh Street. plea of innocent by reason of insanity » _ rooms when -he er
| cf Would you call his the scholarly Sergeants Griffin, Royle Hamilton, had him examined by a Las Vegas ps id ' student told the o
ai type—in appearance?” Griffin inquired. and Herb Barrett went to the address chiatrist before filine murder = tte . ' turned from Than
i | sls a “ would say so. Scholarly fits with nti “Sorat and De- against him 8 8 _ I was surprised to
NY *xactly.” See tective Frank Jergovic. Griffin and Rose Si : ) He told me he ha
Ht Griffin and Biddle exchanged a signifi- took the frontal assault assignment—that thy al ges sa gen ec Tor ) to get his typewri

a cant glance. One woman who had seen of going up to the room—while Hamil- lor for a hearing to d = Y ‘¢ do. » an English theme
a tall, thin man lurking near the down- ton, Barrett, and Jergovic laid a chain of ee of be Its Se his tao e de- f surprised that sor
town parking lot had said he looked policemen around the building. or After t hers saa hae ry d - that way with the
scholarly. ‘ ; Griffin knocked, and the door of the Taylor itevcur ae Tashan.’ — Eto get a typewrite

A request for information on Jack room was opened by a gaunt-faced, Ma h 6, 1959 ee. on to get the theme

Rainsberger was filed at once with police lean man with short black hair. At ae Ds , to die in the gas cham-

i
: , : : : ; : 4 the last minute s
in Los Angeles, California. While await- sight of the uniformed officer beside the oo sia te pond Sag ee - a after the typewrit
ing results of this request, Sheriff Ley- detective, the black-haired man turned pie id ted ' Bight e first deat The student sti
poldt placed in action a shakedown of on his heels, raced to a window, and ence meted out in. Nevada in five

oticed anything
sex perverts in the Las Vegas area. Be- plunged through it. Outside, the wait- ar ‘ . q ian, a8 ci
cause of the killer’s unnatural hatred of ing Hamilton and Barrett tackled the Despite the enormity of his horrible a outh a good stt
women, it was decided that he might be fleeing figure and Detective Jergovic . “Time, Rainsberger was, for better or ‘ Row the Andrew
associating with local residents of a snapped the cuffs on his wrists. worse, not to be executed. .

: } to visit Lee
like character. Jerked erect, the would-be fugitive Perhaps it was because, although he ping

' é . q t to Sunday
admitted his name was Jack Rains- WaS sane by legal definition, it was a He had never mé

|S yea from Los Angeles came the berger. They took him to headquarters, equally obvious that he was abnormal. y The landlad:
word on Jack Rainsberger, and it where he was questioned by Sheriff Ley- Anyhow, Rainsberger’s death sentence *. had said much
confirmed in full the police suspicion of _ poldt, Captain O’Reilly, and other offi- Was commuted to life. °

, : Lowell Lee And
this man. Jack Rainsberger had been cers. Rainsberger made little attempt to To this day, he remains in the Ne- - gave _us any trou!
released from San Quentin Prison in deny the charge against him. He ad- vada State Penitentiary, at Carson City. | |~ ly at all times a
July, 1958, after serving time on a con- mitted that he had seen the flashing It is to be fervently hoped that he + and orderly. Le
viction of armed robbery. In San Mateo, smile of Earline Folker as he wandered remains there for the rest of his life, right on the dot
he had placed a knife against a woman’s the streets of Las Vegas and had been

without any possibility of parole so that ) ~~ When I mention:
throat and robbed her. He had repeated attracted to her by her strikingly perfect he may have: the prs ochurn to ad »» and said he m
this same type of attack again, in Ala- figure. his monstrous crime against another in- 3 and that he wo
| meda County, and was arrested and con- “I hear voices,” he said. “In Los nocent girl such as Earline Folker. a He never did, th
| % Another stude
| a ficers that he re
eR ’ p Lowell Lee had
a ents the previou

| i ber rifle.
| ' ,. The caliber «
GREED CAME HOME TO ROOST in this one,” Athey said. ed about Andrews, with particular em- — into Lieutenant
(Continued from page 33) “What’s that?” Detective Smiley phasis on the last time they had seen es. read the prelim
asked. the beefy lad from Wyandotte County. )) autopsy surgeon
“A lot of drawers in these two bed- From other sources — neighbors, a liam Andrews |
vrooms are open, to be sure,” the lieu- friends, former schoolmates and high a lets from a .22
graphs were taken, the coroner’s men tenant mused. “But if you'll notice the school teachers of young Andrews — Fad _ also _recei
removed the corpses, and a search for contents of the drawers are undisturbed. the police lieutenant learned that the 4 from a foreign }
| clues was undertaken. Medics reported Seems to me a burglar would fling over-sized youth was considered a model Athey made
| that the mother had suffered four bul- stuff all over the place as he searched boy, and many folks thought he was a aa the Lawrence |
let wounds, the girl three, the father for loot.” genius. Teen-agers considered him “a oe canvass be ma:
an astounding seventeen. “You're suggesting?” Smiley said, brain.” : ee area. “Find ov
“Took a lot of lead to drop Big Bill “Suggesting not a thing,” Athey snap- He was regarded as the smartest pupil a were sold rece
Andrews,” one officer remarked. ped. “I’m telling you to question that ever to attend the Wolcott grade school. ie hard—that’s no
Lieutenant Athey discussed the triple big kid again. I’m going to check on He had graduated from Washington pa We're going to
murder with Detectives Edward H. ‘his story, and will join you at head- High at the top of his class in 1957.. ©, of the woods f
Payne and Robert Smiley. He wanted quarters later.” ; Moreover, he had made the highest g Athey stoppe
a radio alert flashed for any suspicious Athey first placed a telephone call scores ever recorded at that high school o quarters to che
characters seen in the immediate area to the city police in Lawrence, Kansas, in special national merit examinations a and Payne. The
of the Wolcott neighborhood.. He in- the university town. He requested that and was considered a brilliant student 5 rogation of the
structed the detectives to escort big detectives be sent to the rooming house _ with a potential inventive genius. es: lege student ha
Lowell Andrews to the sheriff’s office near the: campus where young Andrews “Lee was almost always quiet and .. of value. The
and question the student more closely. lived while attending classes. He wanted polite,” one neighbor said. “He was big- Xa to his original
“There's one thing doesn’t ring right _ the other students at the house question- ger than most boys his age, but he was ea holes in it. At!

64 ¥

POLICE FILES POLICE FILES

Jennie Andrews was watching television when death came into the room.

% THE TELEVISION picture was
too fuzzy, so Mrs. Opal Andrews
walked over to the TV set in her
Wyandotte County, Kansas, modern
stone farmhouse and turned the dials
to bring the black-and-white images
into better focus. Her handsome hus-
band, 50-year-old William L., An-
drews, an airline mechanic who was
out on strike at the time, watched his
wife’s efforts from his over-size lounge
chair. Jennie Andrews, their 20-year-
old, brown-haired daughter, a student
at Oklahoma Baptist University in
Shawnee, was also in the living room
with them. Jennie was home from the
nearby institution of learning to spend
the Thanksgiving holidays

The first rifle blast came from the
doorway of a bedroom just off the
living room at about seven P.M., Friday,
November 28th, 1958. It struck Opal
as she crouched in front of the set
and knocked her off her feet. The gun
roared again, sending more slugs to-
ward Opal, and then pretty Jennie stag-
gered, dashed toward one wall, struck
it blindly and fell. Big Bill Andrews
raised himself from the chair but was
hit by several bullets before he could
flee from the room into the kitchen.

Mrs. Opal Andrews was one of three victims of a madman’s bullets.

5*
bre oF

oN I we

MURDER
AME
HOME

ROOST

by Leslie Gomez

The killer returned to the bedroom,
opened several drawers in the bureau
and chest, then went into an adjacent
room, where he drew open drawers
and didn’t bother to shut them when
he was finished.

He was gone almost as suddenly as
he’d appeared.

At an early hour on Saturday mor-
ning a telephone call alerted the Wyan-
dotte County sheriff's office to the
disaster at the house on Wolcott Drive
in Wolcott. Lieutenant Ralph Athey
hurried to the scene with three patrol-
men. Kastle Hackney, Crafton Girlen,
and Allen Myers, to find a hulking
young man sitting on a chair in the
front porch of the house.

“What’s the trouble here?” Athey
asked urgently.

In a minute they had the door com-
pletely open and could sce the bullet
riddled corpse of William Andrews.

Athey swung around to the big
young man, who had entered behind
them, holding the tiny dog in his arms.

“What happened here?” the Lieu-

tenant demanded.
DETECTIVE CASES

Everything was peaceful in the idyllic setting when
the high score killer entered the scene with
his deadly rifle and blasted three people to death

Lowell Lee Andrews, 18, shrugged
ponderous shoulders and peered calm-
ly at the detective through horn-rim-
med glasses. He seemed the complete
master of his emotions. “I would guess
it might be burglary. I noticed a screen
was off one bedroom window and the
window was still open. We’ve been
robbed before. Twice.”

_ Lieutenant Athey hurried on into the
living room. Before the television set
he saw the bloodstained body of 41-
year-old Opal Andrews. Against a far
wall lay the pathetic figure of young
and lovely Jennie. .

“They’re all. dead!”
“They’ve been murdered!”

Lowell Andrews paled a bit at this
news, then rallied bravely. “They must
have surprised the burglar,” he sug-
gested.

Hurrying into the bedrooms near the
living room, the lieutenant noticed the
opened drawers in the dresser and chests
of both rooms. He checked the window
of one bedroom and found it open
more than a foot, with the screen hav-
ing been removed from the outside.

Athey | said.

“Looks like B and E-—break and:

entry,” he told Patrolman Hackney.
“Better radio back to the sheriff’s office
and have a full crew sent out here—
coroner’s men, photographers, finger-
print experts.”

As Hackney departed on this errand,
the lieutenant turned to the beefy

Who would have believed multiple m

DETECTIVE CASES

young man with the little dog. “Sup-
pose you tell me what you know?”

“Well, I had supper with the family
dast night then decided to drive back
to Lawrence—I go to the University of
Kansas—and pick up my typewriter. |
had an English theme to do over the
week-end and needed the machine,”
Lowell Lee Andrews said. “I used my
father’s car. After I got the machine,
I decided to stay in Lawrence and take
in a movie, as long as I was there. I
did, and then drove home—to find this.”

“Did you speak to anyone while in
Lawrence?” Athey asked.

“Sure. The kid who rooms across
the hall. He’s a college student too.
We discussed the weather.”

“The weather,” Athey repeated.
“Pretty rough night to be driving all the
way to Lawrence just for a typewriter.”

The arrival of other officials from
the sheriff's and coroner’s offices post-
poned this interrogation of the young
college sophomore. The official photo-
graphs were taken, the coroner’s men
removed the corpses, and a search for
clues was undertaken. Medics reported
that the mother had suffered four bul-
let wounds, the girl three, the father
an astounding seventeen.

SoZ Sea dun ne

X mes poy
eq

urder would be an untimely visitor to this comfortable home?

“Took a lot of lead to drop Big Bill
Andrews,” one officer remarked.

Lieutenant Athey discussed the triple
murder with Detectives Edward H.
Payne and Robert Smiley. He wanted
a radio alert flashed for any suspicious (
characters seen in the immediate area @
of the Wolcott neighborhood.. He in-
structed the detectives to escort big
Lowell Andrews to the sheriff's office
and question the student more closely. jute

“There’s one thing doesn’t ring right ¢

in this one,” Athey said. oO
“What’s that?” Detective Smiley @
asked.

“A lot of drawers in these two bed-
rooms are open, to be sure,” the lieu-
tenant mused. “But if you'll notice the
contents of the drawers are undisturbed. :
Seems to me a burglar would fling
stuff all over the place as he searched
for loot.”

“You're suggesting?” Smiley said.

“Suggesting not a thing,” Athey snap-
ped. “I’m telling you to question that
big kid again. I’m going to check on
his story, and will join you at head-
quarters later.”

Athey first placed a telephone call
to the city police in Lawrence, Kansas,
the university town. He requested that
detectives be sent to the rooming house
near the campus where young Andrews
lived while attending classes. He wanted
the other students at the house question-
ed about Andrews, with particular em-
phasis on the last time they had seen

ueY

ve:

Ra LL
(a
225 nt

*O¢ ZOqUeAON uo («qundy eyjopuesM) -{g sesuey pe

they compelled me to
ras to make a human
d I would sacrifice her.
park the car out of
Tificed her. It was all
ritual, but I can’t tell
ough it.”
fice” Rainsberger rifled
: and tried to steal her
vehicle stuck in the
1 foot, and concocted
ibery, which he report-
s Office using papers
, Mellon to provide
2ntic identity for him-
ling his actual name.
ring that Rainsberger
blish a basis for a later
by reason of insanity,
d by a Las Vegas psy-
fling murder charges

‘r was adjudged sane.
wre Judge Ryland Tay-
to determine the de-
ind his sentence,
consideration, Judge
d_ Rainsberger on
) die in the gas cham-
y during the week of
It was the first death
ut in Nevada in five

rmity of his horrible
‘r was, for better or
executed.

because, although he
al definition, it was
rat he was abnormal.
rger’s death sentence
’ life. °

: remains in the Ne-
itiary, at Carson City.
2ntly hoped that he
the rest of his life,
ility of parole so that
opportunity to repeat
le against another in-

s Earline Folker.

: with particular em-
time they had seen
1 Wyandotte County.
surces — neighbors,
choolmates and high
f young Andrews —
ant learned that the
is considered a model
(ks thought he was a
considered him ‘“a

aaa gpa a ia 9

a quiet lad. I'll bet he never had a fight
in his life. He didn’t smoke, drink, or
swear — and he dated girls but not too
frequent. Lee’s the model boy of our
little town.”

“I met Lee in the hall outside our
rooms when he entered the house,” this
student told the officers. “I had just re-
turned from Thanksgiving vacation and
I was surprised to see Lee back so soon.
He told me he had driven to Lawrence
to get his typewriter so he could finish
an English theme due next week. I was
surprised that someone would drive all
that way with the roads like they were
to get a typewriter. Lee said he wanted
to get the theme out of the way before
the last minute so he decided to come
after the typewriter.”

Another student roomer told the of-
ficers that he recalled a Christmas gift
Lowell Lee had received from his. par-
ents the previous Christmas—a 22 cali-
ber rifle.

The caliber of this weapon popped
into Lieutenant Athey’s mind when he
read the preliminary report from the
autopsy surgeon. Opal, Jennie, and Wil-
liam Andrews had been shot with bul-
lets from a .22 caliber rifle. Andrews
had also received numerous wounds
from a foreign made Luger pistol.

Athey made another phone call to
the Lawrence police. He asked that a
canvass be made of gunshops in that

mation he had rounded up, then decid-
ed to check with university officials.

He learned from the school that
Lowell Lee Andrews had maintained
good grades in his college studies. The
six-foot, two-inch student had taken a
full schedule—fifteen credit hours—and
was possibly overloaded with home work
and reading assignments. Moreover, at
recent mid-term examination the 260-
pound sophomore had flunked out on an
examination in sociology. His major sub-
ject, the school advised, was zoology.

Lieutenant Athey joined the inter-
rogation of the calm youngster. He ask-
ed about the failure in sociology, and
wanted to know if Lee’s parents had
raised a fuss about that. The youth re-
plied negatively. His parents had been
satisfied with his college work.

Checking the youth’s bank, the police
found this to be true. In the previous
year, when crops were good, deposits
totalling $1,400 had .been made in the
youth’s checking account by the father.
This year only one deposit had been
made—$103.99. Against this dwindling
balance the youth had written a check
for his room rent, made out on the
day of the slayings. The present balance
was only $64.73.

“Were you afraid there wouldn’t be
enough money to finance the balance of
your college education?” Athey, asked
the youth.

friend of the Andrews family, Rev-

erend V. C. Dameron, now ap-
peared at the county police headquarters
and asked to speak with the young stu-
dent. The minister was allowed to in-
terview the youth, in the hope he could
break through the wall of calmness.

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We're going to check around this neck’
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1 from Washington
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it always quiet and

or said. “He was big-
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POLICE FILES

Athey stopped in at the county head-
quarters to check with Detectives Smiley
and Payne. They told him that the inter-
rogation of the cool-headed young col-
lege student had thus far netted nothing
of value. The lad was clinging solidly
to his original story, and there were no
holes in it. Athey gave them the infor-

POLICE FILES

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‘How is school?” he asked.

The boy shrugged. “All right.”

“How are the courses going?”

“They’re fine,” Lowell Andrews re-
plied. “I’m doing a lot of work, but
they’re just fine.”

“Did you have a nice Thanksgiving
with your family?”

“Not particularly,” Lowell replied.
“We had turkey and ham.”

Lowell Lee Andrews shrugged again.
“I did it.”

When this admission was revealed to
the police, County Attorney Robert J.
Foster took over the questioning of the
young man.

“Your mother, father, and sister were
in the living room when you shot them?”
Foster asked.

“Yeah,” young Andrews replied.

“Where were you standing?”

“I was in the bedroom.”

“Which of the three did you shoot
first?” Foster asked.

The youth shrugged, a nervous habit

with him. “I honestly don’t remember.”

“Did you say that all three of them
were in the living room?”

“Yes.”

“Your father’s body was found in the
kitchen,” the county attorney _ said.
“How was that?”

“He ran in there.”

“How many times did you shoot
him?”

“Several times,” Lowell Andrews
said. “After he was in the kitchen.”

“He was also shot in the living room?”

“Yes,” Andrews said. “And he ran
into the kitchen.”

“You shot them until they stopped
moving?” Foster demanded.

“Yes.”

“Why?” Foster asked.

“I don’t know,” Andrews said, shrug-
ging nervously. “I don’t know why.”

Continued questioning of the burly
suspect brought forth an admission some
tiine later that he had been concerned
over his lack of finances and had been
brooding about them. He had decided
that he would like the family farm and
the $1,800 he knew his father had in
a Savings account. His first idea was to
poison the family so he could inherit
the money and. property. Then he

A CASE OF HILLBILLY JUSTICE

(Continued from page 35)

prised when she heard some men say
Jack Worls had a good chance of going
free. He intended to plead self-defense.

Helen went to the sheriff. “I don’t
know what this is all about,” she said.
“You people are supposed to enforce
the law. When one man kills another
man there shouldn’t be any doubt about
his guilt.”

The sheriff said there was more to
the case than that. “You know that out-
ing was a drunken brawl,” he explained.
“Your father didn’t know what he was
doing. Neither did Jack Worls. We’re
going to have a hard time finding wit-
nesses who were sober and are willing
to testify against Worls.”

Helen shook her head. “I’ve got just
one thing to say, Sheriff,” she told the
officer. “My father was a good man.
Jack Worls killed him. If the law
doesn’t take care of him, I will.”

The sheriff said all men are presumed
innocent until proven guilty. Helen
Spence Eaton just looked at him and
then walked away.

Jack Worls went to trial before Judge
W. J. Waggoner. Before Helen knew
what was happening the court ruled
against admitting her stepmother’s ac-
cusation as evidence. The hard-to-un-
derstand legal minds claimed it had been
made before the stepmother had given
up hope of recovery.

Helen Spence Eaton tried to find out
what that meant. Someone told: her it
meant Jack Worls had a darn good

thought of burning the house down
while they slept. At four-thirty Friday
afternoon, less than three hours before
he put his final plan into action, Lowell
Lee Andrews decided to use his .22
caliber gift rifle and a Luger pistol he
had bought in Lawrence to bring his
dreamed-of inheritance to the point of
actuality.

He disclosed how he had driven his
father’s car to a bridge across the Kaw
River in Lawrence, and hurled the mur-
der weapons into the icy water. He said
he’d gone on to his rooming house, met
a fellow student and chatted, taken in a
movie, then returned, home to Wolcott
to report the mass murder of his family.

Asked how he felt about killing his
father, mother. and sister, Lowell An-
drews admitted ‘that he had loved all
three of them. But he added, “I’m not
sorry and I’m not glad I did it. I just
don’t know why I did it.”

Lowell Lee ‘Andrews was arraigned
on November 29th, 1958, on a charge
of first degree murder and returned to
Wyandotte County Jail.

Tried and convicted as charged, the
multiple murderer paid for his crimes
on the gallows at Lansing, Kansas, on
Friday, November 30th, 1962. *

chance of walking out of the courtroom
a free man.

“It’s just a trick,” the girl’ protested.
“That man killed my father, He raped
my stepmother and she died: from the
results. Hasn’t anybody got guts enough
to come forward and say so?”

Evidently nobody did. The’ defense
brought forth evidence to show Jack
Worls had acted in self-defense.

“The whole thing was a drunken
brawl,” the prisoner’s lawyer told the
court. “Anybody could have got him-
self killed. There was no premeditation.
This is a clear-cut case of self-defense.
aah Cicero Spence’s life or my client’s
life.”

When the summations were over
Helen Spence Eaton sat there in the
courtroom in.a daze. She hardly saw
the jury file out. But, she did hear some-
one say, “Jack Worls is not going to be
found guilty,”

The girl remembered what she had
told the sheriff. The only law she knew
was an eye for an eye and a tooth for a
tooth. She left the courtroom and re-
turned in a little while. Jack Worls had
been taken back to a prison cell to await
the jury’s verdict. He was brought in
again when the jury sent out word they
had reached an agreement.

Helen Spence Eaton didn’t wait to
hear what the foreman had to say. As
Jack Worls took his seat beside his at-
torney she walked over and fired four
bullets into him before anybody could
grab her.

The backwoods girl had avenged her
father’s death in the only way she knew.
Court officers arrested her on the spot.
The jury never had a chance to say

whether they had found Jack Worls
guilty or innocent. There was no need
for it. The prisoner was dead.

Helen Spence Eaton didn’t cause any-
body any trouble after that. Her con-
science was clear. The law of the White
River country had been carried out by
her own hand.

She went on trial for the murder of
Jack Worls in April, 1933. The court-
appointed attorney assigned to the girl’s
defense tried to prove she was insane.

Helen laughed at the idea.

“I knew what I was doing,” the girl
said loud enough for everybody in court
to hear her.

There wasn’t anything the jury could
do except bring in a verdict of guilty.
Because of the circumstances surround-
ing the strange case, the judge sentenced
Helen Spence Eaton to five years in
prison for second degree murder. No-
body had expected a stiffer sentence
than that.

An appeal was mandatory and the
girl went free on bail. She got a job
as waitress in a lunch room run by
Jim Bohots in De Witt, Arkansas.

Exactly what happened between the
owner and the waitress will: perhaps
never be known. But Helen Spence
Eaton was young and pretty.. Most
people agreed Bohots made one too
many passes at the dark-eyed beauty.

Helen quit her job in the lunch room
in December, 1931. She was still out
on bail when Jim Bohot’s dead body was
found slumped behind the wheel of his
car on February 4, 1932. Whoever
killed him made sure about it. There
were bullet holes in his head and heart.
His own pistol was on the floor. Two

POLICE FILES

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POLICE FILES

cts to believe

son and daughter.

Herb Clutter and his attractive wife, Bonnie, were found murdered in their home.

* IT WASN’T IN Kansas City, but
nevertheless everything was up to date
on the 1,000-acre wheat ranch, and
in the $50,000 “show-place” home of
Herbert William Clutter a mile west
of tiny Holcomb in the western most
reach of Kansas.

Energetic, intelligent,. educated
Herb Clutter, young for his 48 years,
had made the most of the fertile and
picturesque Arkansas River Valley in
which his rich, well-tended acres lie.
In appearance, manner and speech
more akin to a Wall Street broker .
than a high plains sod buster, he had
grown prosperous and was respected —
far beyond the precincts of his own
valley,

Herb Clutter, on that tragic, blood
night of November 14th, 1959, was .
chairman of the Kansas Conference of
Farm Organizations and Cooperatives *
and a member of the board of the
Kansas City (Missouri) Consumers Co-. |
ops. In his recent past he had been
president of the National Wheat Grow-
ers Association, also the Kansas Wheat
Growers Association, of which he was
a founder. In addition, he had been
appointed by President Eisenhower to
the 12-man‘ board of the potent and
influential Federal Farm Credit Organi-
zation for a two year term ending in
1957. Prior to that President Truman
had named him to the U. S. Agriculture

Department’s Price Stabilization Board. pe
Despite all this, he found time for local Edward Smith refused to talk when questioned about mass murder.

POLICE FILES | POLICE FILES 25

WTCKOCK. Réerha 2, OMTMT Da- 7 ae (TP, N : Lit
HICKOCK, Richard & SMITH, Perry, whites, hanged KS (Finley) April 14, 1965

ae ak a ee Re

MASS MURDER |
of the

CLUTTER FAMILY

A story whispered behind prison walls led two desperate convicts to believe |

a prosperous farmer kept a fortune in his home

by J. S. Qualey

Four flower-laden caskets accent tragedy of Kansas family—the husband, wife and their teen-age son and daughter.

* IT W
neverthel
on the |
in the $5
Herbert
of tiny H
reach of
Energe
Herb Clu
had mad.
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which hi
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Herb (
night of
chairman
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and a m
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ops. In |!
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POLICE FILES POLICE Fi

POLICE FILES, April, 1960

Robinson reported Davis’ story to Di-
‘ector Sanford. If it were true that a
wrisoner had circulated such a story
unong the convicts, one of them could
1ave been released and gone to Hol-
‘omb, lured by the farmer's legendary
vealth,

“It sounds too fantastic to be true,
yut we'll soon find out,” Sanford said.
de and other agents promptly left for
the Kansas State Prison at Lansing.

There they learned that one of the
prisoners actually had been a farmhand
on the Clutter ranch in 1948. The of-
ficers questioned the convict, who
sheepishly admitted that he often had
talked of the “rich wheat farmer with
a wall safe full of money.” :

The prisoner couldn’t remember all
the convicts who had heard his story,
out he was able to supply the agents
with a few names. The new lead was put
inder strict security.

fwo of the men whose names the con-

vict supplied had been Paroled
hortly before the family massacre,
rison records listed them as Perry
dward Smith, 31, of Las Vegas, Nev-
da, and Richard Eugene Hickock, 28,
{ Edgerton, Kansas. a‘
A search for them was instigated.
Davis was released and agents went
» the home of Hickock’s parents.
here they learned that Richard was
vay—and that he had bought a pair
‘ boots in Olathe a short time earlier.
mee got an identical pair of
0

And, they discovered, the markings
1 the soles matched the diamond de-
zn found on the bloody mattress box.
Was this vague lead of a convict's
ast going to pay off?

Hickock’s parents talked freely to the
‘ents. They said that Richard and
nith had been in Edgerton on Novem-

ber 14 and had left that same day,
ostensibly for Fort Scott where Smith
had said he was going to pick up $2,500
his sister had been keeping for him.

A fast call revealed that Smith had
no sister in Fort Scott.

The new lead continued to be kept a
secret. Agent Harold Nye sent word to
Police in Las Vegas to canvass all of
Smith’s known hangouts. This led no-
where, Then a break came. A small
parcel addressed to the hunted man
arrived at a general-delivery box at the
Las Vegas post office. The box was
postmarked out of Mexico City. The
Post office was placed under constant
surveillance,

Dewey and Nye talked cautiously to
all the ex-convicts they could find in
Finney County. At last they, heard
what they wanted to. Smith and Hick-
ock had been seen in Garden City
early in November.

Shortly after noon on December 30,
two men walked into the Las Vegas post
office and sauntered up to the window
marked “General Delivery.” The
shorter of the two asked for a package
addressed to. Perry Smith. Minutes

_later he was in custody and in a cell at

the Las Vegas police station. So was his
companion, Hickock. Both men were
booked on charges of violating their
Kansas parole and Detective Lieuten-
ant B. J. Handlon of the Las Vegas
bureau quickly noticed Sanford in
Topeka.

Minutes later the phone lines to Gar-
den City were hot. “Round up Clar-
ence Duntz, Church and the sheriff,
and get started for Las Vegas. They
have Smith and Hickock,” Sanford told

. Dewey.

The agents set out on the 700-mile
trip, hoping against hope that this was
the break they'd been waiting for.

Sunday night, after more than six-

teen hours of questioning, the authori-
ties claim, Richard Hickock turned to
Agent Duntz and said, “All right. I
can’t go on. I did it; we both did it;
we killed them.”

In the next few hours, the officers
say, he dictated to an official reporter a
six-page statement filling in the details
of the wanton and brutal quadruple
slaughter. :

“Hickock has made a statement, but
Smith refuses to confirm or deny any-
thing,” Dewey told Attorney West in
Garden City by long-distance tele-
phone.

“Okay. Start back this way and I'll
get the warrants ready,” West replied.

The warrants, charging both men
with four counts of first-degree *mur-
der, were issued by Finney County
Judge M. C. Schrader the following
morning. Meanwhile, the agents, in
two-man teams with a prisoner in each
car, started the return trip to Garden
City despite heavy snow warnings.

As THE motorcade battled snow and
bad weather to return the wanted
pair.to the scene of the slaying, West
released bits of the Hickock statement,
which Dewey had read to him over the
telephone. According to these releases,
the ex-convict had related the follow-
ing version of the crime: .

‘He and Smith had heard the prison
talk of the “wealthy wheat farmer and
the money-loaded wall safe,” and had
planned the robbery months in advance.
The two of them had entered the Clut-
ter home shortly after midnight and
herded the family into an upstairs
bathroom while they searched the
house. Unable to find the wall safe,
they tied the family one by one with
the cord and forced Clutter and his son
down into the basement. There they
tried again to make Clutter reveal the

whereabouts of the safe, despite his
pleas and protests that no safe existed.

Monday night, less than 24 hours
after Hickock had made his statement,
West revealed to the press that he had
received a second telephone call from
the KBI agents, telling him that Smith
had given them an oral admission of
the crime.

Agents went to the home of Hickock’s
parents in Edgerton where, they claim,
they recovered a new twelve-gauge
shotgun and a knife which have been
identified as the death weapons.

At nine minutes after six p. m.,
Wednesday, January 6, exactly one
week after their arrest, the two men,
their wrists shackled to heavy chains
around their waists, were led from the
two mud-spattered KBI cars and up
the walk to the Finney County court-
house.

The tired agents met with newsmen
to give further details.

“They went back to Edgerton and
Kansas City after the slayings,” Dewey
said, “then drove to Mexico City where
they sold the stolen radio.” The radio
was recovered by Agent Nye and held
for evidence: '

“Smith talked freely. He told us that
the Clutters had pleaded for their lives
before they were shotgunned down,”
the agent said. “They said they killed
the whole family because they didn’t
want any witnesses,”

The following morning, January 7,
1960, Smith and Hickock were led from
the jail to the third-floor courtroom to
appear before Judge Schrader. Both
men waived the right to a prelimi-
nary hearing. They. were returned to
their cells and at this writing are await-
ing further action on the charges.

The name.Ed Davis is fictitious in this
story.

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BETTER JOB,
A BRIGHTER

FUTURE

you

—

civic affairs and was on the board of
Holcomb Methodist Church, a former
school board member, president of the
Garden City Co-operative Equity Ex-
change and a member of the Garden
City Chamber of Commerce.

And added to his blessing was an at-
tractive, healthy, active family—his wife

Betty May; 16-year-old pretty daughter, |

Nancy; and clean-cut, mannerly son,

Kenyon, 15. Nancy and Kenyon were

“A” students at Holcomb High and had
been tapped for 4-H Club awards at the
forthcoming Finney County 4-H
Achievement Banquet.

Yes, Herb Clutter had covered a lot
of ground since the day he received his
B.S. from Kansas State College of Agri-
culture in 1933. Herb Clutter had it
made.

Studies in the anatomy of murder dis-
close that more, often than not homicide
victims are little different from the char-
acters who do them in. On this premise,
the thriving Clutter family then would
be the most unlikely candidates for
violent, merciles death. But destiny is
devious and they became the principals
in the mdst vicious, most senseless, mur-
der drama ever to rock to the State of
Kansas.

There was no suggestion of doom in

the air that Saturday night when Herb.

Clutter—as he often did despite the fact
he was boss of a crew of nine farm
hands—pitched in and helped hired man
Alfred Stoecklein polish off the evening
chores in the barns ‘back of the big
house. There was no hint of impending
disaster haunting the wire as Herb Clut-
ter’s partner and farm manager, Gerald
Van Fleet, telephoned him at 9:30 that
night to discuss a few work-a-day prob-
blems. But tragic death was lurking in

Pretty Nancy Clutter was just sixteen.

the wings nevertheless.

In fact, even. the next morning at
9:30 the Clutter’s brick and redwood
home looked as secure and serene as
ever in the late fall sun as Susan Kid-

‘well and Nancy Ewalt stepped from the

car driven by Nancy’s father, Clarence.
Susan and Nancy were classmates of
Nancy Clutter and it was the Sunday,
custom of the Clutters to take the two
young ladies with them whenever they
drove to services at the Methodist
Church in Garden City seven. miles
away.
Clarence Ewalt watched as the two

girls skipped up the gravel path to the.
ront door of the Clutter house. He —

always waited until he saw that. Susan

and Nancy were safely inside.

Susan rang the door bell and waited,
but nothing happened. She rang again.
Nothing. A third time. Still nothing. |

“T’ll bet they overslept,” she said.

Nancy giggled. “Overslept? Who ever
heard of a Clutter oversléeping? See if
the door is open. Maybe they’re playing
a joke.”

Susan tried the door and it was open.
With a wave back to walt, the two
entered the house with the open-latch
informality of the high plains country.

Once inside, Nancy called softly,
“Hoo, hoo.. We’re here.” Silence. was
her answer. The teenagers looked at
each other and winked. This surely
meant a joke was waiting for them
somewhere in the house. .

“Let’s go up to Nancy’s room and
let them have their fun,
pered. Noiselessly they walked up the
deep carpeted stairs. At the top landing

they saw the door to their chum’s room

was open and anticipating each other’s
thoughts they dashed through it.

Kenyon Clutter died with sister and pa

Susan whis- ©

POLICE FILES

HE sight th
bulging eye
dead stop. Unb
the bed. Then v
turned and fled
through the frc
father’s car. Cl
their-screams a
“What happ«
startled by the
“Nancy Ch
“she’s up there

|. with blood. A

face...”
“And her fee
gasped.
Ewalt sensed

POLICE FILES

HICKOCK, Richard & SMITH, Perry, whites, hanged KS*P (Finley) on

April 14, 1965. oe _

Ht : |

FINNEY COUNTY'S MOST

| @ It was
PROMINENT FAMILY WAS | nating :

€. Nancy Ev

WIPED OUT BY MADMEN, __ on the doo

house.
EACH OF THEM BOUND Pho
her parent
they’ve gc
AND SHOT IN THE HEAD | Nancy 5
° : father sw
headed ba
» ward the :
— - He parked
by NATHANIEL PENNYPACKER Wilma Ki
ne “Did th
yet?” he ;
Mrs. Ki:
dressed an
girls this ;
“No,” J
| Nancy ov
nobody an:
they had
us and we
knock har:
Susan K
they start
This time
of the im;
still was 1
door. It :
inside.
“Nancy
The larg
quiet.
“Maybe
place,” on
| go up to |}
They cr
and went
Nancy M
right of t

ibe killed.

The dctbver: third to

Nancy, first to be discovered..

The father suffered extra cruelty.

Kenyon, youngest but first to die. |

MASSACRE OF THE CLUTTER FA!

name wee cancel

FRONT PAGE DETECTIVE, April, 1960

HICKOCK & SMIT

CASE FILE’

(Continued from page 3)

ous attempt on his life when a bomb
exploded in his car on April 16, 1962.

Jake Pugh went on trial on Septem-
ber 10, 1962, in De Kalb County Superior
Court before Judge H. O. Hubert Jr. On
September 12th the jury returned a ver-
dict of guilty with no recommendation
for mercy. Judge Hubert then sentenced
Pugh to die in the State’s electric chair.

On September .13th Mrs. Hannelore
Pistor went on trial in the same court
and before the same judge. Again the
jury brought in a guilty verdict, but in
this case they recommended mercy. On
September 15th Judge Hubert sentenced
her to life imprisonment.

Attorneys for both Hannelore Pistor
and Jake Pugh have filed motions for
new trials. Sentences for the two de-
fendants will not be carried out until
after further action on these motions.

MANHUNT FOR THE
COP-KILLING BROTHERS

(FR October, 19598)

His appeal for a new trial rejected
on September 21, 1962, by three judges
sitting en banc in Philadelphia Quarter
Sessions Court, John Joseph Coyle, 28,
Was again sentenced to die in the elec-
tric chair for the June 5, 1959, murder
of Patrolman James Kane.

Judge David L. Ullman and his associ-
ates, Judges Charles A. Waters and
Theodore L. Reimel, rejected in toto the
300 reasons cited by Defense Attorney
Mary Alice Duffy in arguing for a new
trial. In respect to her plea that Coyle
was mentally ill and unable to communi-
cate with counsel during his trial, Judge
Ullman stated:

“There is no doubt that the defendant
became mentally ill after his trial, but
we reject completely the contention that
he was insane during the trial ... or at
the time he committed the murder.”

Six months after his conviction, on
April 9, 1960, Coyle was examined by
a lunacy commission and found to be
psychotic. He was sent to Fairview State
Hospital for the Criminally Insane. In
October, 1961, the same commission ex-
amined him and found him sane.

Since December of 1958, the Coyle
brothers, John, then 24, and William,
22, had staged a series of robberies in
Philadelphia, and in Brockton and Buz-
zards Bay, Massachusetts. On June 5,
1959, at 4:50 a.m., Patrolman Kane, 33,
was shot to death on a Philadelphia
street when he attempted to apprehend
two men he surprised stealing milk
bottles. The crime was traced to the
Coyle brothers.

On June 15th they were located in a
wooded area near Middleboro, Mass., and
125 state troopers converged on the
scene. In the ensuing gun battle, William
was slain. John was captured and re-
turned to Philadelphia, where he pleaded
guilty to the murder of Patrolman Kane.

After the longest trial in the history
of Philadelphia courts, John Coyle was
convicted on November 21, 1959, of first-
degree murder by a jury of seven women
and five men, who fixed his penalty at

death in the electric chair. :
With the most recent of her long series
of legal maneuvers in behalf of Coyle
rejected, Attorney Duffy said she would
appeal to the State Supreme Court.

LAUGHTER ON SUNDAY

(TD Aprif, 1960)

In Topeka, Kansas, on September 11,
1962, the Kansas Supreme Court rejected
a motion for rehearing the case and
ordered convicted killers Perry Edward
Smith, 33, of Elko, Nevada, and Richard
Eugene Hickok, 30, of Edgerton, Kansas,
to be hanged on October 25th for the
November 15, 1959, shotgun- -slaying of
four members of the prominent Herbert
Clutter family of Garden City, Kansas.

Friends arriving at the Clutter home
on that November Sunday morning
found Herbert Clutter, 48, his wife
Bonnie, 45, their daughter Nancy, 16,
and son Kenyon, 15, bound and gagged,
their heads almost blown off. by shotgun
blasts.

Evidence presently identified Hickok
and Smith as the slayers, and the two
men, both ex-convicts, were arrested on
January 3, 1960, in Las Vegas, Nevada.
Following their trial in Garden City,
Kansas, on March 30, 1960, an all-male
jury found Richard Hickok and Perry

Smith guilty of murder in the first ‘

degree and decreed death on the gallows
for both. The robbery which culminated
in four murders netted them $80 and a
portable radio.

KILLER-PIRATE FROM KANSAS

(TD February, 1962)

Convicted and condemned to die be-
fore a firing squad for the murder of
two Greek seamen, Roger Ranney, 26-
year-old American adventurer from
Chanute, Kansas, has had his death sen-
tence commuted by King Paul of Greece.

The royal decree, delivered by the
Piraeus public prosecutor in September,
1962, to the Aigina Prison in Athens
where Ranney was held, stated:

“At the request of King Paul of The
Hellenes, he decrees that you will not
die before a firing squad, but live the
remainder of your life behind bars.”

Protesting his innocence, in a dra-
matic 10-day trial before a three-man
panel of judges in Piraeus, Greece, Rog-
er Ranney was found guilty on October
14, 1961, of the murder of Captain
George Mantaleros, 53, and seaman Di-
mitrious Efstrathiou, 36, and of the pi-
racy and the scuttling of two Greek
ships. The Criminal Court jury of ten
men which convicted him recommended
mercy. Ignoring the recommendation,
the panel of judges sentenced Ranney to
be shot.

On February 24, 1962, an appeal to
the Greek Supreme Court in Athens was
rejected. Citizens of Ranney’s hometown,
Chanute, Kansas, raised money for fur-
ther legal assistance and protests were

lodged through U.S. Embassy Officials. |

An appeal was made to the Clemency
Council.

Early in Segtomibar. 1962, a Justice
Ministry official released the news that
King Paul had accepted the recommen-
dation of the Clemency Council that the
death sentence be commuted to life im-
prisonment. .

Identification

hanged Kansas (Finley County ) on April 14, 1965.

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No salesman will call.

TRUE DETECTIVE MAGAZINE,. JANUARY, 1963.

Ghe Ballas Morning News

Sunday, December 21, 1997 11 -

F ormer

By Judy L. Thomas

Kansas City Star

KANSAS CITY, Mo. — Almost
“four decades later, James Post still
gets emotional when he talks about

otthe picture.

isos “‘This gorgeous thing wasn’t

4ainted by a murderer,” he says, his

-ayoice rising.

qe But the painter became one. A
very famous murderer. In fact, the
charcoal drawing of Jesus Christ

2Swas drawn by none other than Per-

26r¥ Smith, one of two infamous kill-

21@fs of the Clutter family and anti-
hero of Truman Capote’s equally fa-
mous book In Cold Blood.

omit Mr. Smith, along with fellow

4faveler Richard Hickock, sur-

29sfised, bound and then slaughtered

Ufite Clutters in their Holcomb, Kan.,
home 38 years ago. The Nov. 15,
- 1959, murders were termed among
F thle most brutal crimes in Kansas

91 Mr. -Post, a former chaplain at
“fansing State Prison, walked Mr.
ith and Mr. Hickock to the gal-
tows in 1965 and watched them
- pang for the crime.
~ Mr. Smith had given Mr. Post the
picture years earlier, when Mr.
Smith was in Lansing for burglary.
He drew it on a prison bedsheet and
gave it to Mr. Post because he
thought he would appreciate the
subject matter.

Mr. Post framed it, and for 25
years it hung on a wall of his Kan-
sas City, Kan., church. Now he has it
propped up on a table in his home
in Platte Woods, Mo.

Mr. Post, 82, will carry the
wrenching memories of the killers’
executions to his grave. A close con-
fidant of the men, he was one of a
handful of people to be with them
in their final hours.

He has been a vocal death penal-
ty opponent ever since.

Mr. Post, an elder with the Reor-
ganized Church of Jesus Christ of
Latter-day Saints, became Lansing’s
jProtestant chaplain in November

prison chaplain recalls memories of killers,

1957. Among the inmates were Mr.
Hickock and Mr. Smith, who served
time for burglary before being pa-
roled in the summer of 1959.

They decided to head for Hol-
comb, where a fellow inmate who
had been a Clutter farmhand told
them the family had a safe full of
money.

The night before they left for
Holcomb, Mr. Hickock and Mr.
Smith stopped by Mr. Post’s house,
asking whether he’d seen another
inmate who recently had been re-
leased. That inmate, named John,
had been Mr. Post’s clerk at Lan-
sing.

“I feel terrible about it,” Mr. Post
said. “I am convinced that if I’d
been able to tell them where John
was ... this never would have hap-
pened.”

He believes the clerk would have
talked Mr. Smith and Mr. Hickock
out of their plan to rob the Clutters.

When Mr. Post later heard that
Mr. Hickock and Mr. Smith had
been charged with the Clutter mur-
ders, he thought, “Oh, my gosh; that
can’t be possible.”

“Dick Hickock never got in trou-
ble in prison at all. And Perry Smith
was the easiest-going prisoner in
the place.”

On death row, Mr. Post said, Mr.
Hickock and Mr. Smith were in ad-
joining cells. Mr. Smith spent time
writing letters and drawing. And
both men liked to smoke.

“They'd pass cigarettes to each
other: by tying them onto a cock-
roach,” he said. “I’m serious. They
showed me how they did it.”

After numerous appeals and
nearly 2,000 days behind bars, Mr:
Hickock and Mr. Smith were sched-
uled to die on April 14, 1965. Their
last meal — ‘jumbo shrimp, French
fries, garlic bread, vanilla ice
cream and strawberries with
whipped cream — was served about
7 p.m.

“T thought Perry would enjoy the
meal,” Mr. Post said. “But he just

“They'd pass cigarettes to each other by tying them
onto a cockroach. I’m serious. They showed me

how they did it.”

— James Post, former chaplain at Lansing State Prison

picked at it. Dick scarfed his down.”

The wait seemed like an eternity.

“The warden had given them
these little transistor radios,” Mr.
Post said, referring to the luxury
afforded all death row inmates.
“And every hour on the hour before
the execution, they could hear on
the news that tonight is the night
that the Clutter killers are being
executed in Lansing. Every hour.
I'd like to have thrown those darn
radios out the window.”

Shortly before being escorted to
the gallows, Mr. Smith gave Mr. Post
some of his possessions. One was
Thoreau on Man & Nature, a book of
sayings by Henry David Thoreau.

Throughout the book, Mr. Smith
had used colored markers to high-
light passages of importance to him.
Some were marked with red dots in
the margin; some had blue dots, and

‘others had blue Xs in red squares.

One passage appeared to be of
particular importance to Mr. Smith.
Marked with a red dot in a blue
circle, it said, “No human being,
past the thoughtless age of boy-
hood, will wantonly murder any
creature which holds its life by the
same tenure that he does.”

They came for Mr. Hickock just
after midnight.

Mr. Post rode with him to the
gallows; built in a warehouse at the
southeast corner of the prison.
When they arrived, prison officers
loosened Mr. Hickock’s leg shackles
so he could climb the 13 steps.

“I walked up the steps right be-
hind him,” Mr. Post said. “The exe-
cutioner stood over in the corner.”

After the shackles were retigh-
tened, Mr. Hickock was allowed to

make his last remarks.

“He said, ‘I want to thank you for
all that you’ve done to make this as
easy as possible for everybody. Ac-
tually, we don’t deserve very much,
and you're sending me to a far bet-
ter place than I’ve ever known,’”
Mr. Post said.

“Then the rope went around his
neck.”

Mr. Post said to Mr. Hickock in a
barely audible voice, “The Lord giv-
eth, the Lord taketh away. Blessed
is the name of the Lord. May the
Lord have mercy on your soul.”

Then Mr. Post recited the Lord’s
Prayer.

“It was very quiet,” Mr. Post said.
“Then, wham! You could hear that
snap of the trap door opening like it
was a cannon going off. ;

“I went back down the steps and
Stood there about five feet away
from him while the doctor stuck
the stethoscope on his chest. Then
they went back to get Perry.”

The routine was similar with Mr.
Smith. When it was time for his last
words, “Perry gave them a speech
telling them what he thought of
them,” Mr. Post said. “He just kind
of rambled. Then, as the officer
went to put the hood over his head,
Smith looked around, like, what am
I going to do with this?”

Mr. Smith was referring to his
chewing gum.

“And like I used to do for my son,
I stuck my hand out, and he spit it
out. It was Juicy Fruit.”

Mr. Post still has the rest of the
pack — with one stick missing.

Mr. Capote watched Mr. Hick-
ock’s hanging, Mr. Post said, but
refused to watch when Mr. Smith

was executed. George Plimpton, in
an article last month in The New
Yorker, said that was because Mr.
Capote and Mr. Smith had become
lovers.

“That’s a lie,” Mr. Post said. “I
know there wasn’t any hanky-
panky going on.”

Mr. Post buried Mr. Hickock and
Mr. Smith side by side on Prisoner’s
Row in the public cemetery in Leav-
enworth, Kan. He said Mr. Capote
paid for the headstones.

Years later, Mr. Post found him-
self back at the cemetery.

“In Cold Blood became required
reading in high schools,” he said.
“At Shawnee Mission North [High
School in Overland Park, Kan.], a
young man was reading the book,
and he came to the part about Mr.
Hickock’s family, and he saw his
grandmother's name. Then he real-
ized Dick was his father.

“He didn’t know, because they’d
changed his name when his mother
remarried. He threw the book down
and tore out to the counselor’s of-
fice and collapsed. I got a telephone
call from his dear mother. She said,
‘I hate to bother you, chaplain, but
Ricky’s finally found out who his

“dad really is. Could you come and

talk to him?’ So I got out there, and
there was this broken-down boy. He
was just in shock.”

After the boy caltned down, Mr.
Post said, he asked to see his fa-
ther’s grave.

“We went up to Leavenworth,
and as we came around the corner,
the headstones were missing from
both of their graves,” he said.
“Someone had stolen them.”

Mr. Post retired as prison chap-
lain in 1982 and began lecturing at
schools and civic organizations.
During the lectures, he often winds
up talking about the death penalty.

“TI hate the death penalty,” he
said. “I don’t believe that you’re
going to solve a killing by killing,

i. Paco

for one thing. But every an ¢
those men, in their intimate tim
with me and without any encoy °
agement from me, in the last :
minutes before they go to the g:
lows, they say, ‘Well, thank God it
over with today. They’re Comat me
favor by killing me.’”

To prisoners, death Scmnatisnad ,
preferable to life behind bars.: « .

In a recent interview, Mr. Po,
thumbed through a scrapbook
compiled after the executions. ;
stopped on a page with snapshots.
two paintings Mr. Smith gave.
while serving his burglary, be
tence. 3

“When he gave me that one,”
Post said, pointing to a picture o
fisherman in a storm, “I than}
him for it.” "

Then Mr. Smith gave him- ‘
picture of Jesus.

“And I said, ‘Perry, this: over:
whelms me. Not only is ‘this ig6r-
geous, but you don’t even come to
church. How come you painted aj
picture of Christ?’ He said,.<I ‘
thought you'd appreciate the su}- ‘
ject matter.’ ” t

Mr. Post showed the picture tb
the man who succeeded him as ef
der at his church.

“He was astonished. Then I told
him who had painted it for me. He
said, ‘I don’t think I want a picture
hanging in the church _—
painted by a.murderer.’”

The church’s next elder, howev-
er, displayed the picture prominent-
ly. Now, Mr. Post is keeping it in his
home while a new church is being
built. r
_ “It hung in our church for 25
years; then they sold the church,”
he said. “The people buying thp
church said, ‘Will this picture come
with the church?’ I said, ‘No. Afraid
not.’ When our church is complet-
ed, it'll be hanging permanently
there.”

Murders still haunt farm

By ANTONE GONSALVES

HOLCOMB, Kan. (UPI) — A quarter
of a century has passed, but the
quadruple murder that inspired “In
Cold Blood,” the novel and movie, still
haunts the memories of a farm
community trying to forget.

Very early in the morning of Sunday,
Nov..15, 1959, four shotgun blasts
echoed through an isolated farmhouse
in southwest Kansas, ending the lives of
four members of a prominent Holcomb
family.

Herbert Clutter, 48, his wife Bonnie,
45, their daughter Nancy, 16, and son
Kenyon, 15, died that morning, their
heads blown apart by a shotgun blast
fired at point-blank range by a drifter
who later said, “It was like picking off
targets in a shooting gallery.”

The killer, Perry Edward Smith, and
his accomplice, Richard Eugene
Hickock, were hanged five years later
for the murders, called at the time as
the “‘most heinous crime” in Kansas
history.

It sparked the late Truman Capote’s
best-selling non-fiction novel, “In Cold
Blood,” and the successful motion
picture.

Tourists still ask about the Clutter
house. “People come by all the time
asking for directions,” said Nancy
Mader, 22, but most residents refuse to
discuss the case.

“We want to forget the whole thing,”
said Wendle Meir, undersheriff at the
time of the killings.

Up until about a decade ago, Holeomb
was a dusty plains community with
unpaved roads and about 350 people.
Today it has about 1,200 residents,
many working at the world’s largest
beef-packing plant northwest of town.

But the windswept countryside hasn’t
changed. Weather-beaten elms line the
dirt road leading to the large farmhouse
where the church-going, hard-working
Clutter family once lived.

The half-brick, half-wooden house is
surrounded by flat, cultivated
farmland, with the closest home about a
half mile away. Bob Byrd, a rancher-
farmer, has owned the Clutter place for .
20 years, and like most, has little to say
about the killings. /

' Duane West, Finney County attorney” ;

-. from 1957 to 1961, prosecuted Hickock: ~
and Smith, demanding that the duo be,”

executed. ~~

Penitentiary after another inmate and”
former worker for the Clutters, William

Floyd Wells Jr., told Hickock a lie —#".
_ that Herb Clutter kept $10,000 in a...
_ house safe. Bt
The killers arrived at the Clutter ~

home but found no safe. Unable to get™~

-, more than $40 to $50 in cash, they bound
' the Clutters’ hands and feet and gagged

apart with a’shotgun while Hickock '

‘pointed a flashlight at the target. -

Except for the throat slashing, the .
others were killed in the same fashion
— ‘first Kenyon, then Nancy, their
mother last. awe eed 2d
“Those two guys were scum and they +
needed to be executed,” said West, a
passionate advocate of the death
penalty. “I would have gone up and
pulled the lever on those guys.” \
West, 53, has read only excerpts of
Capote’s book, but disdains the work —
which is often called a journalism
classic for its pioneering style in which
factual events are related in narrative. -
“J don’t think there was anything of
redeeming social value whatsoever in
Mr. Capote’s book,” said West, now a -
lawyer in Garden City, calling it “a
bunch of garbage as far as I’m

concerned.”

West says the book gave unwarranted
credit to his assistant, Logan Green,
who he says Capote portrayed as the
chief prosecutor.

“T had no use for that man either,”
said Clarence Ewalt, who called police
after his daughter, Nancy, and Susan
Kidwell found Nancy Clutter lying on
her bed in a pool of blood. “Why should

‘he (Capote) make millions of dollars?”

Wilma Kidwell, 77, said she and her
daughter Susan, now 37 and living in

_ New York, “‘don’t ‘talk” about the

murders.
Kidwell, who has moved to nearby
Garden City, recalled Capote’s first

visit to Holcomb.

“He was very short, of course, and
had a fur coat on, fur hat and he was sort
of swallowed up in it,” she said. “(With)
his high pitched voice, he was certainly
not an ordinary person.”

Kidwell also claims the book has
inaccuracies, but is kinder toward
Capote, who died Aug. 25 of liver
disease and other complications.

“To me, he was very nice and very
polite and I respected his work,” she
said. “I never felt that he was trying to
use us in any way.”

Harrison Smith, now 70, defended
Hickock, who, with his accomplice,
confessed before the trial.

town

“By the time we (defense attorneys)

- got into the picture, it was a pretty cut-

and-dried affair as far as their
innocence or guilt was concerned,” said
Smith, who also lives in Garden City.

“The best we could hope for was that
they'd get life in prison as opposed to the
end of a rope.” But even that proved
fruitless. Hickock and Smith were
hanged on April 14, 1965.

“Under the circumstances, I don’t
think anybody alive, at least at. that

‘time, could-have saved their lives,”

Smith said. “As the events proved, I
would say it (execution) was warranted
in this particular case, if it was ever
warranted.”

1984 11-F

SUNDAY ADVOCATE, Baton Rouge, La, Nov. 12,

Richard Eugene Hickock

Perry Edward Smith .

ere

“

be that ty alll hu ddd keds

1s al ethan es Klik bes abt ott Oa ei

custom of the Clutters to take the two
young ladies with them whenever they
drove to services at the Methodist
Church in Garden City seven miles
away.

Clarence Brand watched as the two
girls skipped up the gravel path to the
front door of the Clutter house. He
always waited until he saw that Susan
and Nancy were safely inside,

Susan rang the door bell and waited,
but nothing happened. She rang again.
Nothing. A third time. Still nothing.

“Tl bet they overslept,” she said.

Nancy giggled. “Overslept? Who ever |

heard of a Clutter oversleeping? See if
the door is open. Maybe they’re playing
a joke.”

Susan tried the door and it was open.
With a wave back to Brand, the two
entered the house with the open-latch
informality of the plains country.

Once inside, Nancy called softly,
“Hoo, hoo. We're here.” Silence was
her answer. The teenagers looked at
each other and winked. This surely
meant a joke was waiting for them
somewhere in the house.

“Let’s go up to Nancy’s room and
let them have their fun,” Susan whis-
pered. Noiselessly they walked up the
deep carpeted stairs. At the top landing
60

Ownership of giant wheat ranch gave rise

they saw the door to their chum’s room
was open and anticipating each other’s
thoughts they dashed through it.

HE sight that greeted their suddenly
bulging eyes braked their rush to a
dead stop. Unbelievingly their stared at
the bed. Then with shrieks of terror they
turned and fled down the stairs and out
through the front door toward Nancy’s
father’s car. Clarence Brand had heard
their screams and met them halfway.
“What happened, honey?” he asked,
startled by the girls’ hysteria.
_ “Nancy Clutter,” Susan sobbed,
“she’s up there on the bed all covered
with blood. And her face . .. her
ree:
“And their feet are tied,” Nancy
Brand gasped,
Brand sensed immediately that some-
thing was very wrong and ordered the

girls to go down to Mrs. Brand in the .

car. Then he dashed up the path.

He was unfamiliar with the second
floor plan of the house but when he
reached the top of the stairs he saw the
open door and ran in. He was shocked
to the core by what he saw.

Lying on top of the bed in her pa-
jamas, her once attractive face nothing
but a bloody pulp, Nancy Clutter was

to rumors that farmhouse contained safe with fortune for the robbing.

trussed legs and arms, the latter bound
behind her back.

Seeing there was nothing he could
do, Brand ran to a hall closet tele-
phone and dialed Sheriff Earl Robinson
in Garden City. Robinson’s office phone
didn’t respond and he called the sheriff's
home. Robinson answered.

“You’d better get over to the Clutter
place fast, Earl,” he said, “There’s
been murder done. Young Nancy. Her
face has been blown away by a shot-
gun blast and she’s hog-tied like a
rodeo calf.”

“The Clutters!” the sheriff said.
“Come now, Clarence, who’d want to
harm little Nancy?”

“I don’t know,” Brand said, “but
I’m telling you the truth. I never saw
anything like it. And you’d better alert
Dewey, that agent for the KBI. From
what I’ve seen you'll need all the help
you can get.” Al Dewey was the rep-
resentative of the Kansas Bureau of In-
vestigation, the state-wide crime pre-
vention agency, stationed in Garden
City. :

“T'll be right over, Clarence. Are the
rest of the Clutters okay?” Sheriff Rob-
inson asked.

“I don’t know. I called you the mo-
ment I found Nancy,” the good neigh-

AMAZING DETECTIVE —— *

by NICK ROMBOLI

HERBERT William Clutter was prob-
ably the best known farmer in Kansas,
sadly enough. Sad? Clutter owned and
operated a 1,000 acre wheat ranch a
mile west of the village of Holcomb in
the western part of the state. His farm-
house itself was valued at more than
$50,000, Clutter himself looked and
lived more like a Wall Street broker
than a high plains farmer, and that was
the key to his tragedy. For word spread
far and wide that Herb Clutter was a
very wealthy man. In fact, word filtered
right through the walls of the Kansas
State penitentiary and spread as idle,
yardbird gossip among the convicts
there, some of whom were due to be
teleased onto the outside world again
in the not too distant future. Along the
prison grapevine, the gossip was, that
58

Clutter’s up-to-date farmhouse con-
tained a safe. And inside that safe there
was $100,000.

Herb Clutter, on that tragic, blood
night of November 14th, 1959, was
chairman of the Kansas Conference of
Farm Organizations and Cooperatives
and a member of the board of the
Kansas City (Missouri) Consumers Co-
ops. In his recent past he had been
president of the National Wheat Grow-
ers Association, also the Kansas Wheat
Growers Association, of which he was
a founder. In addition, he had been
appointed by President Eisenhower to

the 12-man board of the potent and‘

influential Federal Farm Credit Organi-
zation for a two year term ending in
1957. Prior to that President Truman
had named him to the U. S. Agriculture
Department’s Price Stabilization Board.
Despite all this, he found time for, local
civic affairs and was on the board of
Holcomb Methodist Church, a former

school board member, president of the
Garden City Co-operative Equity Ex-
change and a member of the Garden
City Chamber of Commerce.

And added to his blessing was an at-
tractive, healthy, active family—his wife
Betty May; 16-year-old pretty daughter,
Nancy; and clean-cut, mannerly son,
Kenyon, 15. Nancy and Kenyon were
“A” students at Holcomb High and had
been tapped for 4-H Club awards at the
forthcoming Finney County 4-H
Achievement Banquet.

Yes, Herb Clutter had covered a lot
of ground since the day he received his
B.S. from Kansas State College of Agri-

‘culture in 1933. Herb Clutter had it

made.

Studies in the anatomy of murder dis-
close that more often than not homicide
victims are little different from the char-
acters who do them in. On this premise,
the thriving Clutter family then would
be the most unlikely candidates for

AMAZING DETECTIVE | ~

December, 1963,

Sixteen-year-old Nancy loved farm life.

Kenyon was 15, enthusiastic 4-H member.

violent, merciless death. But destiny is
_ devious and they became the principals
in the most vicious, most senseless, mur-
der drama ever to shake up the citizens
of Kansas,

There was no suggestion of doom in
the air that Saturday night when Herb
- Clutter—as he.often did despite the fact
he was boss of a crew of nine farm

AMAZING DETECTIVE

hands—pitched in and helped hired man
Alfred Stoecklein polish off the evening
chores in the barns back of the big
house. There was no hint of impending
disaster haunting the wire as Herb Clut-
ter’s partner and farm manager, Gerald
Van Fleet, telephoned him at 9:30 that
night to discuss a few work-a-day prob-
blems. But tragic death was lurking in

the wings nevertheless.

In fact, even the next morning at
9:30 the Clutter’s brick and redwood
home looked as secure and serene as
ever in the late fall sun as Susan Dol-
bury and Nancy Brand stepped from the
car driven by Nancy’s father, Clarence.
Susan and Nancy were classmates of
Nancy Clutter and it was the Sunday

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bor said. “But I intend to find out right
away.” Hanging up, he again ran up-
Stairs and began methodically going
through the bedrooms. ;

Brand, sick at the sight .of what
had once been a kind family friend, saw
that nothing in the world could be done
for her and resumed his search. The
rest of the bedrooms on the second floor
were vacant, but he noticed that in one,
a boy’s room, if the school pennants
and athletic equipment were any sort
of indicators, the bed had been slept in.
The bed clothing was rumpled as if
tossed aside in a hurry.

He continued to enter room after
room and when he had covered the
ground floor without turning up any
new gruesome discoveries, he descended
into the spacious basement.

Here he was again horror struck.
Side by side on an outside piece of
cardboard lay the bodies of Herb Clut-
ter and his son, Kenyon. The face of
each had been turned to hamburger by

_a shotgun blast. Each was bound, legs

and arms, with the wrists caught behind
the back. The father, like his daughter
and wife, was clad in pajamas. The boy
wore a T-shirt and blue levis, but was
barefooted. The sorrowing, angered
neighbor saw they were beyond any
ministrations except prayer.

_ Sobbing, Brand stumbled up the cel-
lar steps, through the house and out
the tront door to await the sheriff. He
was trembling from the horror of what
he had witnessed.

EVERAL minutes later, Sheriff Rob-
inson skidded his sedan to a
screeching halt and leaped out and ran
up to Brand. Behind him came Agent
Dewey of the KBI.

“They wiped out the whole family,”
Brand shouted as the sheriff and state
agent approached. “It’s a massacre!”

“Come on, where are they?” Robin-
son asked.

“The womenfolk are upstairs, the
men in the cellar,’ Brand said, “but
I’m not going with you. I couldn’t
stomach any more.” He stood by the
door his chest heaving.

Robinson and Dewey took the steps
three at a time and burst into Nancy
Clutter’s room. Their reaction was simi-
lar to that of Brand’s, one of revulsion
and hammer-like shock. “My God!”
they exclaimed as one.

Dewey turned and left the room, say-
ing, “I'll have to notify headquarters.
I can see right off we'll need help on
this one. Especially technicians.”

While the KBI man was telephoning
his chief, Director Logan Sanford at
Topeka, the state capital, Robinson

AMAZING DETECTIVE

found Mrs. Clutter in her bedroom,
and her husband and son in the base-
ment. While he stood staring at the
father and son in what almost approach-
ed disbelief, he was rejoined by Dewey.
The KBI agent looked down at the two
pathetic forms for a moment, and then
said softly, “The chief’s flying out a
crew, investigators and lab boys. They
should be here in a couple of hours.”

The sheriff shook his head as though
clearing it of fog. “County Attorney
West has to know about this immedi-
ately. I'll call him and then you and I
can get to work until your boys arrive.
The murdering devils who did this have
too much of a head start as it is.”.

After telephoning Prosecutor Duane
West, the sheriff and the KBI man went
outside to ask Brand how he gained
entrance to the house.

“The two girls just walxed in,’ the
farmer said. “The door was open.”

The sheriff nodded. “This is un-
locked door country,” he said, “and the
Clutters were like the rest. It would be
all right, too, as far as the home folks
are concerned. But strangers do come
through. And I'll bet my office that this
is the work of outsiders. I know about
everybody in Finney County and I can’t
imagine any of them doing something
like this.”

As they talked to Brand, Alfred
Stoecklein, Clutter’s hired man, came

- trotting across the road, a worried look

in his eyes. Stoecklein lived with his
wife and children in an tenant house
about 500 yards from the Clutter home.

“Saw your car, sheriff,” he said.
“What’s up?”

“Hear or see anything out of the way
last night, Alf?” Robinson asked. He
knew that Stoecklein had worked an
even dozen years for Clutter and was
intensely loyal to him.

“No, not a thing,” Stoecklein said. “Is
something wrong?”

“Something’s mighty wrong, Alf,”
Robinson said softly. “Some murdering
fiends have shotgunned the Clutter
family to ,death.” The hired man’s
weather-beaten face turned a deathly
white and it appeared for a moment as
if he would collapse.

“Killed the Clutters?” he echoed va-
cantly, then stood there mute, tears
rolling down his cheeks.

ETURNING inside of the house,
Dewey and Robinson’ began a
methodical, hands-off examination — of
the unfortunate Clutters, and the bed-
rooms where they had slept the night
before. They painstakingly refrained
from disturbing anything so that the
ground would be virgin for the investi-
gation bureau’s sharpshooting techni-
cians.
County Attorney West arrived during
the checkup and joined in. After an
hour and a half the three repaired to

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(MB-Dec.-Jan. '64)
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Metadata

Containers:: Box 16 (2-Documentation of Executions), Folder 13
Resource Type:: Document
Description:: Perry Smith executed on 1965-04-14 in Kansas (KS) Richard Hickock executed on 1965-04-14 in Kansas (KS)
Rights:: In Copyright - Educational Use Permitted
Date Uploaded:: June 30, 2019

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